


What They Capture

by haiwannadie_89



Series: The Degrees Of Separation [1]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Drunken Kissing, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Homophobia, Kid Fic, Light Angst, Look At Your Life Look At Your Choices, M/M, No mpreg, Travel, Vacation, take this as you will, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-12 18:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17472308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haiwannadie_89/pseuds/haiwannadie_89
Summary: In which Shizuo is not going through a mid-life crisis, not struggling to be a good father and Izaya is and is not helping.





	1. Birds Of Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Middle-Aged domestic Shizaya? Sign me the fuck up. As in, I did, sign myself up for it. Dear lord.

Shizuo was forty-four when he started worrying about his kids growing up.

 

Well, that wasn’t exactly true – he had always had a fear of his kids growing up. Not that this was a particularly exclusive fear to him. Many people held the exact same sort of anxiety. However, this fear had recently wormed its ugly, gnawing head back into his conscience after, when he announced his plan for their family vacation, his children looked at him as if he had finally gone crazy.

 

“What’s wrong with camping?” He asked while his kids continued to stare at him in utter boredom.

 

“It’s hot out.” Itsuki said, turning his attention back to the crossword puzzle in front of him. He was never the outdoorsy type. Despite being only nine years old, he was the least energetic among his siblings, and preferred to be by himself unless he got curious. He took lots of his personal traits from Izaya. Shizuo never knew whether to be too worried about that or not.

 

“Yeah, the last thing I want to hear is the raw, unfiltered sounds of the cicadas having sex in the wild.” Haru snorted as she examined her nails.

 

“Wh – cicadas have sex?” Shizuo winced. Poor Hana, she was the most sensitive of the three and it didn’t help that he, along with Haru and Itsuki, had the tendency to be very blunt and straightforward about delicate subject matters.

 

“That _is_ what the sounds they make are, you know? Mating calls.” Itsuki explained in a rather condescending manner, though he sounded bored. But there was a noticeable cadence in his tone that indicated mischief. “How do you not know that when I do?” He prompted. He had finished his crossword puzzle at that moment and looked up with a smug smirk on his face. Yeah, Shizuo should definitely be worried.

 

“Don’t make fun of your sister just because you read something off of Wikipedia. But well, yes. To oversimplify, everything has sex.” Izaya said, looking up briefly from his screen to give a pointed look towards Itsuki, who pouted. Looking significantly more down, he went back to work on something else. He never liked making Izaya upset as the two were usually the closest. No one ever said that aloud, of course, but the two’s attachment was somewhat of an open secret kind of thing, which made Shizuo a weird mix of happy and sad.

 

“Hey now,” Shizuo says, attempting to steer the conversation to something less traumatising for Hana, who was determined to appear unaffected, but whose expression betrayed her utter disgust and horror.

 

“Camping can be fun, guys. The stars are out at night, there’s a lot to enjoy. Y’know, the stars and, stuff. It’s peaceful, at least. C’mon, it’ll be fun!” He could see Haru snickering at the side while Hana was stifling a laugh at Shizuo’s attempts at getting them hyped about the trip. Izaya had always said that when Shizuo didn’t like something, it showed terribly obviously in everything he did. Grimacing, Shizuo silently berated himself. He’d always been bad at lying, but he kind of thought he was alright with acting.

 

Shizuo often felt a close connection to nature, and he was sad that he had never really raised his kids to enjoy the peacefulness of it considering he never really had the chance to experience it much himself when he was younger, what with all the fights and brawls he got into. Strangely enough, during those times it was chasing Izaya that forced him to come into contact with the more isolated, rural areas of the ever-changing landscape that was Tokyo. The quieter areas. Even though everything he was doing then was anything but. Maybe it said something about Shizuo that the quietest moments of his life were spent screaming.

 

“Sounds like shit.” Haru muttered, and Hana snickered at her side. They were usually on his side.

 

A loud clearing of the throat brought their attention back to the black silhouette illuminated against the backdrop of a cityscape.

 

“What’s the rule about swearing?” Izaya’s typing had paused so that he could fully engage in what was not so much of a ‘family discussion’ as it was everyone agreeing to disagree. With Shizuo, that is.

 

“That we don’t do it when the teachers are around!” Itsuki exclaimed with a newfound enthusiasm. Izaya says that he’s insecure about his age, always eager to prove himself with his wit and wanting to know more than his sisters. Shizuo was delighted that he loved to learn, of course, but he often wondered if this mindset could be more damaging to him down the line.

 

“ _Or_ in front of adults, including us. You know the penalty if you do.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Haru muttered, right eyebrow twitching in irritation. Shizuo saw much of himself in her, sometimes, which was ironic because she was mostly a result of the Orihara side of their last names.

 

Izaya first brought up the idea of a ‘Swear Jar’ – at this point it was more like a Swear _Bank_ – mostly to annoy Shizuo, as was everything he did. But indirectly, it served to challenge Shizuo, a means to test his self-control, saying something about “the purity of their future children”. It had been a joke at first (both the idea of children and the Jar) but the commitment did help over time. Izaya, obviously, was never the type to swear in the first place. Hana took after him in that respect. They were too regal for those sorts of things. Haru and Itsuki, however, were more likely to blurt out the casual curse word, which made Shizuo feel guilty because they _definitely_ got it from him. Shizuo did not like the idea of his kids swearing. Children were always more innocent in his mind, the little things in the world that were pure and should be kept out of the vulgarity and seemingly endless cruelty that adulthood had to offer. Of course, the biggest offender of “the rule” amongst them all was Shizuo, who contributed to the offending jar on the daily, but he (tried to) reason that the money was going towards his kids’ future anyway, so fuck it.

 

“But _Otousan_ , how could you let Otouchan get away with this!” Haru says while flicking a hundred yen to the corner of the coffee table where the ‘Swear Jar’ stood. It was made out of a glass jar Hana got from the first time they took her to the Fukuro Festival. It was too small, and they usually had to transfer the money to one of Izaya’s safes, but she’d spent time to decorate it and personalise it in a style that broke Shizuo’s heart in the best ways.

 

The coins made a high-pitched _clink_ before landing inside among other older and newer coins.

 

“You think I haven’t been trying to do anything else?” Izaya hissed, but lost a bit of his edge when he saw Shizuo’s shoulders droop lower. Sighing, he relented, rubbing his temples as he spoke.

 

“Listen, I realise camping is not the most exciting activity for all of you but your father and I feel that it is in your best interest to go along with it, so you will.”

 

“Do we have a choice?” Hana asked sarcastically while Itsuki simply seemed content that Izaya was along with it.

 

“No, but surprise me.”

 

A tense silence permeated the room, punctuated only by the _click-clacking_ of keys that came from one end of the room.

 

“I mean…why not we just, I don’t know, do the camping at the start?”

 

Izaya sent Hana a deadpanned expression and focused his attention back to his documents. “That is the plan, yes. Feel free to offer more inciting news.”

 

“Jeez, no need to be sarcastic! I was just saying, since this camping thing’s only going to take up like, two days, we can include other stuff too, explore other places?”

 

Izaya raised one eyebrow. “You do realise that I only have a week off of work, right?” Despite seeming impassive, Shizuo caught the subtle decline in his typing speed as well as the slight shift of his weight to know that Izaya’s interest was, in fact, piqued.

 

And through years of experience, Shizuo found that this was, more often than not, a troubling thing.

 

“Yeah, but you’re good at pulling strings! And if you have some trouble you can get Ha-chi to help!” Itsuki provided, peering up hopefully from where he remained surrounded by an array of scattered Legos and crayons. Currently, he was invested in blocking out a large blob of colour that, as far as Shizuo knew, was supposed to resemble a bird-flower like thing that they had seen at the nearby park. It had looked so odd and exotic that it had shocked the kids. Keyword being resemble.

 

“And why, pray tell, should we be having this – extended trip?”

 

While Izaya enjoyed meeting new people to a fault, neither of them particularly felt the need to venture beyond their known realm of Ikebukuro and Shinjuku too often. There was already plenty of exciting things to see here, most of which used to be curtesy of them, and Shizuo did not really enjoy the idea of sticking out like a sore thumb in other countries. Izaya had only ever gone outside to Russia for ‘business deals’, whatever that meant – Shizuo didn’t really feel the need to know.

 

“Because,” Hana began, hands on her hips in the same way that Izaya would do when annoyed and prepared to prove himself right. On her though, it appeared less condescending and daintier. Shizuo could already see her doing the same thing, only this time, she was dressed to impress: donning a business suit and pencil skirt at some unknown board meeting in a faceless corporation. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind to deal with later.

 

“Spending our holidays in the wild where we can contract who knows what kind of disease and have to live like animals is not particularly pleasant?” Much like Izaya, the kids tended to look down on any accommodation that had less than a certified four-star rating.

 

“Hey,” Shizuo stepped closer. “There’s not gonna be any diseases, alright? You’ll all be fine.” He reached out to place a small hand on her back, it stung a lot when she jerked away from it.

 

“Yeah but _please_ , we’re still young! We should be able to explore more than the small wilderness of Japan!” Hana crossed her arms and glared at the ground as if it was the floor’s fault that her life was apparently falling apart.

 

Sensing the sour attitude, Haru chimed in from her spot on the couch, ever the peacemaker. “Ya’ know, Ha-ni’s got a point in all of this. I say we should spend the last few days somewhere else. Ooh – maybe even abroad!”

 

Putting a hand on his chin, Izaya seemed to consider the thought. “Hmm, well I suppose…”

 

Oh no. “What? But we’ve had this planned out for weeks, flea!”

 

When Izaya turned to face him, there was that old glint in his eyes. Possessing the exact same spark that Shizuo would see reflected in the eyes of all three of his kids from time to time. _Oh no._

 

_Godammit, here we go._

 

“Sure Shizu-chan but, the more to see the happier we’ll all be, ne?”

 

And while Shizuo wanted to scoff at how lame that rhyme was, Izaya clapped his hands together, the sound a bit more nauseating than reassuring, and the decision was final.

 

…

 

“Oi, wait a bit for me Haru, I still need to gather these two troublemakers before I can tuck you into bed.” Shizuo accidentally crushed a wayward pencil while making his way to Haru.

 

“Jeez Otouchan, what am I, eight?” That earned her a glare from a tired Itsuki, who was drowsily moving around his toys on the floor, one which she returned with an annoyed roll of the eyes and a stick of the tongue, but her eyes softened when she turned back to her father, who appeared rather lost at the moment.

 

A teasing glint appeared in her eyes. “C’mon, it takes more than a little dark to scare me.”

 

Shizuo often thought of how similar she was to the entire Orihara side of the family, considering, everything. Her expression, in this particular case, was reminiscent of Kururi when she broke her emotionless façade – a bit of a sweet wise-ness that was apparent in young teenage girls. Though, it really shouldn’t surprise him too much. When they were first discussing the prospects of using IVF to have children, including all the legal bullshit that made his head ache, Mairu and Kururi jumped at the opportunity to contribute to something larger than them, eager to cooperate. Izaya may have taken advantage of their extremely generous offers – it’s not everyday someone agrees to get pregnant, much less two someones who were also sisters – with their only condition being that Kururi would contribute the egg while Mairu would carry the baby. All in all, the weirdest and most questionable thing Shizuo has done in his life, including marrying Izaya. Almost every part of her was reminiscent of them, her bouncy walk and personality, her sometimes reserved and calculating nature and her tendency to brush off the misfortune of others. Her eyes, however, were Shizuo’s honey-gold, and they were now looking at him with a reassurance Shizuo feels like he should expect from someone older.

 

“So don’t worry, ok? Besides, I feel like you’ll have more than enough trouble trying to get the other two shitheads to coexist in the same room together.” She added with a wink and a grin, knowing that she was safe to say whatever she wanted around Shizuo – it was one of their secrets – and she was off.

 

Shizuo tried to ignore that pang he felt every step she took away.

 

He scratched the back of his head. “Alright then, come on you two up to bed we go.”

 

In one fluid motion, he scooped each of them up into one arm, kicking aside the drawings and toys abandoned on the floor as Shizuo shuffled to their room.

 

He felt Hana stirring at his right, when he looked down, her eyes were _sparkling_.

 

“Are we really going to go to America? I’ve always wanted to go there! Last year, Kanna went to Disneyland – can we go there too? And she said that they had fireworks and parades in the streets. It’s so cool!”

 

“Ah, well. Your father and I still have to discuss some things first,” A lot of things, really. “and even then, there might not be fireworks and, stuff. And the food there isn’t exactly – what you like.”

 

“You mean they have greasy, gross stuff there?” Her face crinkled and she stuck out her tongue.

 

Shizuo grinned cheekily, enjoying her casual, adorable perkiness that was becoming rarer as the years rolled by. “Yep.”

 

Hana swung her legs idly from where she was propped on Shizuo’s bicep, humming along to some old tune, unfazed. “Mmm, well I don’t mind. They’ve got princesses and even a huge, huge castle there, I heard!”

 

“Lame.” Itsuki muttered, his eyelids drooping ever so slightly downwards. Even tired, he still had the energy to annoy Hana, though Shizuo wanted to agree – this sort of whimsy was never his thing. The two bickered the whole way, though it lacked their usual fire. Most likely because the two could barely contain their newfound excitement, which was too distracting for them to really get fiery with each other. Shizuo was sure to add a bit more bounce to every step he took ever so carefully, with just enough of a height that always got them giggling. They spent the remainder of their time being carried squealing and squirming in his arms and Shizuo thought of how warm his arms felt.

 

He was happy that his kids were happy, of course! That was his stance on everything. And yet, as he urges them to brush their teeth and ruffles their hairs in the way that is equal amounts of annoying and endearing to them before nudging them into bed, he wonders.

 

…

 

“Hey, um, do you think this is stupid?” Shizuo asked, lying on his side with Izaya wrapped in his arms, his voice was muffled slightly from nuzzling Izaya’s hair while Izaya was scrolling through forums on his phone. This was their usual position when Shizuo was feeling worn-out and unsure, but kinda also when he wanted to convince Izaya of something.

 

“No more so than your other ideas. So, just a bit.”

 

He let out a deep sigh and buried his face deeper into the particular shade of coal-black that he loved. “God, I just thought this could be, I don’t know, contained? Small, nice. But seems like the little ones don’t like it that much.” He felt the heaviness in his heart sink deeper.

 

“Oh, don’t mind them too much. If I were their age, I’d likely be the same. Just that my parents never really were much for the whole ‘family bonding’ type deal.” Izaya joked, but there was that familiar weight to his voice that only appeared in those weary nights, the kind of nights where they would hold each other a little closer without needing to be asked.

 

“I think this could be a good thing for them.” This part was said softer.

 

Izaya continued on. “Besides, they can appreciate nature too, just only when it works to their benefit. Like when the heavy downpours flood the streets and get them out of school. They’ll have fun regardless.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I just feel like they’re getting, too old?”

 

“Oh, Shizu-chan, I always knew you would be one of those parents. You’re such an _oyabaka_ , it’s cute~!” By this point, Izaya had put down his phone and rolled around to face Shizuo, mockingly pulling at his cheeks until Shizuo shook his hands away.

 

“Don’t be too bothered, children are like that: unpredictably predictable. And most like being rebellious and jaded at this point, dealing with – my sisters taught me that much at least. They just like being a pain about it, they get it from me.” Izaya said tiredly, though the cadence in his voice revealed that he was a bit too proud of that.

 

“Hm, I guess. Still can’t beat you, though, thank god for that. I don’t think I could handle it if all of them were as attention-seeking as you. Who knows what they would be getting up to.” Shizuo shudders at the thought. Jokingly. Kind of. Izaya lets out a breathy laugh at Shizuo’s teasing. Shizuo liked these softer sides that Izaya had, and no matter how much time passed these sides seemed to grow more and more every year, from the infinitesimally small details to the gargantuanly large areas that Shizuo feels he would never get tired of seeing.

 

“ _Besides_ ,” the sudden lilt in Izaya’s voice broke Shizuo out of his thoughts, he had propped himself up on his elbows, red orbs poking out from half-lidded eyes staring down at Shizuo.

 

“We could have a lot of fun on this trip ourselves.” The newfound playfulness in his voice did not go unnoticed.

 

“After all, if we _just_ went camping, there would be no room for us to enjoy ourselves too, no?” Izaya continued to stare intensely at Shizuo, tucking an arm underneath his head. His voice was getting low and smooth in the way it always did when he wanted Shizuo’s complete attention.

 

“I mean, I can’t imagine having sex in the wilderness, as romantically cliched as that idea sounds.” Izaya trailed his fingers across Shizuo’s chest, featherlight touches sending tinglings down south.

 

“What do you think, Shizu-chan? We can spend some time doing those outdoors activities that you insist upon, then when we’re at the hotels, it’ll be like an occasion to look forward to, an upgrade of sorts. We can get Haru-chan to watch our two other little monsters,” his fingers trailed lighter, leaving much more to be desired lower. “While you,” Eyes getting hazier by the second. “ _Fuck me long and slow in the hotel room._ ” Izaya finished off his speech by snaking his pale arms around Shizuo’s neck and moved in closer, to the point where their noses were touching. Shizuo responded by wrapping his untucked arm around Izaya’s slim waist.

 

Neither of them would ever resent the birth of their kids. But it was true that after Haru came into their lives, they spent less time in the bedroom. This was the case was even more so after Itsuki made it his personal mission to spend most nights in bed with them, claiming to be ‘one extra protector’ in case someone decided to come in to attack Izaya in the middle of the night – which had happened before.

 

One of the most disappointing things ever since they decided to expand was that they had to be subtler when they did decide to have sex, usually after the other has had a particularly straining day. Subtlety was never Shizuo’s strong suit but he had Izaya to make up for his lack of it. It usually reminded Shizuo of the past, where every time they met felt like a special occasion – granted, one that never failed to make him angry and pissed off afterwards – but also like some dirty secret. They were also a lot less loud now. Gone were the days of casual taunts, mocking jabs and foreplay. Now that they had both mellowed out it seemed that they preferred to be quieter and more reserved, merely enjoying the warm presence that the other had to offer. But at least they were less prone to breaking furniture now. Shizuo found himself missing that feeling that they had before, like something that had been there his whole life and had one day disappeared. As if he had absentmindedly left it behind somewhere, in a time long past, and lost it forever. It struck Shizuo on his most depressing days, this longing for something that would fill up that small gap in him. It felt as if an old but close friend that had been out of his life for so long that it hardly seemed to matter anymore, but still caused a painful tightening in his chest when he thought about how much it mattered to him back then. He thinks – knows – Izaya feels it to.

 

But right now, Izaya was smiling, and Shizuo was too. Listening to the way Izaya spoke about the trip as though everything happened already, and that it was paradise. Talking about the research he did on the locations and already thinking of the types of people they could and would meet, Shizuo could push down that feeling. It was true that their expanded vacation pack would offer plenty more opportunities to get the kids excited about the natural world and Izaya definitely had the capability to make all of it happen. By the time he fell asleep that night, Shizuo had fully agreed to go to two different locations, plan them all in a week and rim Izaya after fucking him on every one of them. It felt alright for a few lucid minutes. Though Shizuo was also a little scared that their vacation was so broad, nervous about the limited time-frame and too tired to drag himself out of bed the next day.

 

 

…

 

The next day, Hana is out with some friends, leaving the rest of them to decide what to do. Well, more accurately, Haru and Itsuki suggesting lavish places while Izaya shot them down.

 

“Oh, we could go on a cruise! I’ve always wanted to do that.”

 

“What’s a cruise?” Itsuki asked, genuinely curious.

 

“It’s like a hotel on a boat.” Shizuo explains before Izaya could. “But I think they take longer to travel in, and I’m pretty sure the distance between Japan and America is way too big to take less than a week.”

 

“We’re not doing a cruise,” Izaya said.

 

“What?” Haru leaned over the kitchen island, a bowl of almonds in her hands. “Why not?”  
  
“Yeah, what! I want to see the ocean in a hotel!”

 

Izaya gives Shizuo a look that indicated he blamed him for this. “Because, like Otouchan says, the distance is too big and frankly, I think you would be quite bored the whole time.” Izaya says. “Besides, you can already see the ocean at the beach, a cruise doesn’t offer many new experiences.”

 

“I won’t be bored!” Haru says, insulted. “And it’s different on a ship! I thought you liked nature, Otouchan! This one here even has a rock-climbing wall, we will appreciate the nature expedition more if we can apply it, right?”

 

Shizuo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Haru, we’re not even going to be doing any rock climbing just – hiking. And all this is artificial anyway.”

 

“Artificial _and_ less likely to result in any major injuries.”

 

“Is it like being pirates?” Itsuki asks.

 

“No.”

 

“Yes.” Shizuo says, at the same time.

 

“C’mon, Otousan, can’t you take some more time off your work, god knows we have enough money as it is – “

 

“Right, so no cruises.” He gets up from his chair to stretch. A pose which Shizuo finds to be really fuckable – almost as much as when Izaya wears his reading glasses – and then scolds himself for thinking about that in front of his children. “But there’s already going to be plenty to see where we’re going, trust me. Our itinerary is packed already.”  


“Our itinerary?” Shizuo said. “Didn’t we decide to do this like, a day ago?”

 

Izaya scoffed, raising an eyebrow at Shizuo.

 

“I could plan an impromptu three-way war in a day. In my sleep, even. This is nothing new.”

 

Shizuo thinks Izaya is exaggerating his skills a bit, since the three-way war he is referring to involved a bunch of stupid, impressionable teenagers in gangs sprinkled with a few paranormal entities, and most definitely took more than a day. But then again, Izaya could probably do all that and more if he had to, so long as it was entertaining. Maybe. Which only made his eyebrows twitch slightly when he thought about it now.

 

Shizuo examined the itinerary later that night, and wrote down things like _‘this place seems nice for a walk’_ or _‘nice hikes here’_ or _‘this sounds unnecessary’_ into some of the empty margins _._ He did some research on the places they would be visiting, and filled in the name of some other locations that looked interesting.

 

“What do you mean ‘unnecessary’?” Izaya quizzed while reviewing Shizuo’s changes. He seemed to be in a less generous mood as opposed to the previous night, where they spent a decent amount of time dry-humping before Itsuki barged into the room at his usual time, the excuse this time was that he claimed he heard weird noises. He didn’t seem to notice the extreme shade of red on both of their faces as he crawled in between them, thankfully.

 

“Do we really need to go shopping? I mean, isn’t Shibuya already one of the top shopping districts? I don’t think uhh, _Millenia Plaza Orlando_ ,” Izaya cringed at weak English. “will be that much different.”  


“Shizu-chan! We’re going somewhere new, of course there’s going to be things to buy. I bet the girls will be thrilled.” Izaya said exasperatedly, placing his hands on his hips. “Anyways, what are we going to do at some of these new places? Watch birds?”

 

“Um, yeah.”

 

Izaya rolls his eyes and sighs hard, making a motion with his hands as if shooing Shizuo away. “Fine, fine. But don’t blame me when they get bored. You know how they are.”  


“Who?”

 

“Your children! Remember Shinjuku Eisa?”

 

Shizuo really didn’t like to. It was a few years back, a full day under the blinding hot sun amongst a crowd of pushy, bumping strangers. Haru was in some pre-adolescent funk, where she thought being ambivalent about everything was cool, Hana was constantly annoyed at the drums and Itsuki whined about everything else, demanding to be carried by Izaya the whole time. They spent four hours there, annoyed and sweating, before concluding that there would be nothing to be gained from staying any longer. Shizuo punched in five stop signs on the way home.

 

“But this is different. You said it yourself, they will be charmed.”

 

“Yes. By the fake mascots and shaky rides. Speaking of which, none of them will be going on any ride that was previously associated with some terrible freak accident in the past.” Izaya said, while leaning over to rub Shizuo’s shoulders as he stared down at the laptop. “I want us to have sex on this vacation, remember?” Izaya pouts, leaning down to whisper in Shizuo’s ear. Reminding him much of the snake from some old story he feels should be important. “I left those slots empty for _us_. During the time in between at the hotel, we can leave them downstairs to look around the hotel, and Haru can babysit while you take your time making sweet love to me in that expensive hotel room, and we can be as loud as we want, for a while.”

 

“God,” Shizuo says, his voice husky, and suddenly the shoulder rub didn’t seem so innocent. “You’re so greedy.”

 

They compromised in the end, he took out the extra hikes but the small walk and shopping remained, which left them with a reasonable forty-five minutes at the hotel before dinner. No bird watching, though.

 

From there, they operated on a tight schedule, with less than a week to book the locations and arrange the other necessities, being a far cry from the simple elegance of the original plan. It was putting a strain on everyone.

 

“How about this? Look, this hotel here even has a family _en suite_ with a mini bar area! That should be required, no? You can brush up on your bartending skills – because you’re probably going to bring one of those suits along for this. It’s only seven hundred US dollars a night.”

 

Actually, Shizuo had not worn his bartender outfits in years. Though they were still in the closet, too precious to throw out but too impractical to wear now. 

 

“Shouldn’t we try to do this inexpensively?”

 

Izaya rolled his eyes. “Since when have you known me to do things ‘inexpensively’? And what’s the joy of vacation if we can’t splurge a little! I’m sure that the kids will love it. Look, it even has a penthouse view, Haru-chan can show off to her friends.”

 

Izaya spun around in his swivel chair as Shizuo pretended to weigh the idea in his head, knowing that he was going to agree in the end, but thinking he should at least put up a fight.

 

“Well yeah, but I feel like we spoil them too much.”

 

“Says you, at least I don’t let them sneak ice-cream in the middle of the night _or_ ,” The corners of his lips curved upwards into a familiar, sly smirk. “Let them get away with obscene language. Tsk, tsk.”

 

“Figures that you knew.” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“It’s a talent. Anyway, look! Disneyland, ‘land of copyright and capitalism’! Hana and Itsuki would simply adore it, don’t you think?”

 

“Oi, oi, how much are we spending on this. We should budget first, right?”

 

“Ah, well, you see, I’ve already sent the link to the hotels and amusement park to Hana – ah wait – she’s already so excited! She sent me three kamojis back, and they all have sparkles in them, we must include this now, less we disappoint hmm?”

 

“Godammit flea.”

 

“Well what do you want? We might as well enjoy this vacation. Afterall…”

 

Shizuo merely nodded along, not really listening at this point. The part about ‘enjoying this vacation’ stinging a bit. It felt like a jab at him, swift and nearly undetectable.

 

“Now… Business or First Class?”

 

“ _Izaya_.”

 

 

…

 

 

In the end, they had arranged their trip in a manner that Izaya deemed to be the ‘most rewarding’. Shizuo took that to mean that the least exciting events were placed first – which was his camping idea – but that was to be expected.

 

_[How do you feel about this, really?]_

 

He exhaled a long huff of smoke before he was able to gather his thoughts. The guilty self-consciousness that always ate at his lungs when he did this burned, despite being out of the apartment. Once in a while he and Izaya would visit, though Izaya was starting to come along less frequently.

 

“I don’t know. M’fine, I guess.”

 

_[You don’t sound very ‘fine’ to me.]_

 

He shut his eyes and took another long drag. Smoking had and always will be a relief to him, but it had become somewhat of a luxury these past few years. When Haru was developing inside Mairu, Shizuo had promised Izaya and himself that he would attempt to give up smoking. He had lasted until she turned eight, when Hana was introduced, but he always made sure to put a month between every session, and never did it in front of any of them. Despite that, whenever he returned home smelling of nicotine, his showers always lasted longer.

 

“I mean don’t get me wrong, I love them. I love that I’m going to be spending more time with all of them and I think the whole thing sounds fun but, maybe I’m making a big deal out of everything but it just feels like it has gotten more…complicated.”

 

Celty shuffled from side-to-side the way she always did when she was nervous. If she had a set of lips, Shizuo was sure she would be biting them too.

 

_[Complicated? In what way?]_

 

He grinned, glad that he’d always have her to talk to. Her concern was nothing short of welcomed, even if it usually had to be in the vicinity of bad company.

 

“Ehh, I don’t know what you’re so bothered about, Shizuo-kun. It sounds like so much fun! I mean, not the ‘looking-after-my-problem-children’ part, that definitely sounds more annoying, but if Celty and I would ever have a getaway together imagine all the wonderful and lovely things we would be do-ow-ow-ow-sorry!”

 

_[Don’t call Shizuo’s children annoying!]_

 

The years had, expectedly, done nothing much to the odd couple. Celty, being immortal, was unlikely to change much throughout the years, though Shizuo thinks that the feeling of seeing your best friend get married to their mortal enemy and subsequently fathering three kids with said enemy would have a _bit_ of an effect on anyone, immortal or not. Shinra, on the other hand, had not changed one bit. Though the traces of time were etched on his face as well, in the extra crinkles around his mouth and the crow’s feet he had developed. But other than that, same-old, same-old.

 

“Eh, well, I was referring to children in _general_ , don’t worry. I think Hana-chan is the closest thing to an angel in that family, and Haru-chan and Itsuki-kun are…well, not nearly as irritating as Orihara-kun. But Celty, my love, it’s so sweet to see you so defensive of them! You’d make a lovely mother, I can just picture it! You know, if you ever want children, not sure if that would be possible with you, but then again look at Shizuo and Izaya, I would do it just for you in a heartbeat!-oW-OK-OK-Shiz-uo!”

 

Shizuo calmly watched him struggle and flail for a bit before deciding that strangling anyone, no matter how irritating, was a bad example to set.

 

Once Shinra’s feet were safely reattached to the floor, he smoothed out his lab coat, which was as oppressively white as the first time Shizuo saw him in it, and straightened his glasses. He was chuckling as he did so, as if his neck hadn’t almost been crushed. Shizuo supposes he and Izaya have always been similar in that regard.

 

“You really have mellowed down, haven’t you?”

 

Shizuo grunted in response. Maybe Shinra too, had softened a bit.

 

“The old you would have put much more pressure and taken longer to let go! Or could it be that your muscles are starting to deteriorate from the lack of extreme physical exertion? I wonder if that’s possible for your steel bones but it would be interesting wouldn’t it?” Nevermind. Fucker was still a little creep.

 

“If you don’t have anything to add, just go away.”

 

“Lucky for you then, that I do have something to add to this conversation. You seem, how do I say…quite unhappy. In all honesty, I don’t think Izaya, or your kids for that matter, are being entirely fair to you.”

 

“…What do you mean? _Hah?_ ” Shizuo’s voice was getting dangerously low, guttural. Reminiscent of the days where he would go around with Tom and Varona, collecting debts from the scum in the streets. Though he quit long ago to be a stay-at-home dad and spend time with his kids and Izaya, whose job didn’t require him to go out too often.

 

Crushing his cigarette between his fingers, he stalked closer towards the underground doctor until he felt the familiar presence of a cool, weightless substance on his shoulder, gently holding him in place.

 

_[Wait! Shizuo, before you hit him, I have to say…I kind of agree.]_

“Ah Celty! Coming to my rescue like my beautiful, ethereal warrior! I love –“

 

_[Now’s not the time!]_

“Ok, ok, I’ll get us some drinks to cool down, then.”

 

“What did you and Shinra mean by that?” Shizuo asked, glaring pointedly as Shinra squeaked and walked out of sight, he was still seething.

 

_[I mean, it just feels like they aren’t really considering your feelings about this at all! Don’t get me wrong, but you’re not really good at hiding when you don’t like something. Your kids are observant, but they’re still young, I get that. Though I would think Izaya should have been able to pick up on your mood but it doesn’t seem like he’s giving it much consideration at all!]_

“Fuck, am I really that easy to read?”

 

_[…yes?]_

Shizuo let out a rough sound, frustrated. Running a hand through his mane, he pulled out his phone, desperate for a distraction from the odd couple. He let his eyes pause on a treasured name.

 

_hey going on a trip with izaya and the kids. thought id tell you._

 

A few seconds later, a response had been written.

 

_Good for you, brother. You deserve it. Say hi to all of them, I’m doing well right now._

Shizuo smiled warmly. Kasuka was never close to his kids the way Shizuo secretly wishes he could be, but he knows that Kasuka adores them and is proud of Shizuo for having achieved something he’d once been afraid to even consider. The kids are enamoured by his status, though his current fame didn’t hold a candle to what it once had been, his popularity having died down somewhat, not that Kasuka minded. With old fans having grown up and new generations not being as interested in old names, regardless of the fact that he didn’t look a day over twenty. A fact to which Hana had very seriously and alarmingly asked Izaya whether he was another adopted sibling. His biggest fans were still Izaya’s sisters, who are forever in denial and refuse to believe that Kasuka has a permanent girlfriend who he intends to spend the rest of his life with. Or at least, they probably still were that way, Shizuo wasn’t too sure now.

“Here you go, some red wine to get rid of all that stress building up, doctor’s recommendation.” Shinra set down two glasses onto the table along with one unopened bottle.  


“Shouldn’t good doctors advise patients away from alcohol?”

 

“Shizuo, just drink.”

 

Around ten glasses later, Shinra was flat out drunk, begging Celty to get on his lap, to which she begrudgingly obliged, and he was gushing over it, hands travelling dangerously low until Celty slapped them away. Shizuo, on the other hand, was holding out pretty well, if only the furniture would stop moving.

 

“Oh-oh! Celty doesn’t this just remind you of our wedding night! Remember how afterwards you transformed out of your wedding dress – which looked simply marvellous on you by the way, you should really wear it again – and into that sexy lingerie – “  


At that point Shinra had received some form of physical attack from Celty and was whining about it. Shizuo could not help but think of how similar everything was for them. The way they acted around each other, around other people.

 

The only difference now was that they were married.

 

The ceremony was, surprisingly, unobstructed. Even nice. Really, the most surprising thing was that Shizuo and Izaya had settled down before them. Theirs had been a private affair, just a signing of a document, and a call for those who were close enough to be notified. Shizuo liked that a lot more. Shinra and Celty’s, however, had been a pretty typical one, grand and elegant.

 

Shizuo had been rambling more about the vacation, not really realising that he had been. Partway through, Celty went inside to put away the now-empty bottle, leaving Shinra and Shizuo at the balcony, both red-faced and unstable. Shinra swayed the last glass of wine at him, sloshing a bit of it onto the wooden decking of the balcony.

 

“I don’t see why you have to go along with this if you really don’t want to. You were always the type to do things at your own pace.” Shinra inquired. The sky had turned dark by now, but Ikebukuro was always reflecting artificial stars to make up for the loss of it above.

 

Shizuo stared down into his glass, the liquid inside looking a disgusting shade of blood.

 

“You don’t understand family.” Shizuo said.

 

“I’ll drink to that!” Shinra chirped, and he toasted to himself and the bliss of never having to contend with an extra party member vying for his beloved’s attention.

 

The rest of the week went by in a flash, the days seeming to blur together. Somehow, Izaya had managed to book all the flights and put together a cohesive timetable of everything in no time, even including details about the hotel stays, location tours and budgeting. His only problem from then on was dealing with three rambunctious and excited children. Izaya kept urging them to finish packing quickly, but such nagging rarely got through to the minds of adrenalin-fuelled whippersnappers. Shizuo was definitely certain that they would and had forgotten something, but he supposes they could just buy more items from wherever was convenient.

 

Feeling unprepared, he rolled on his spot on the bed and propped his head on his elbow, staring absentmindedly at four sets of unpacked luggages next to a single, sleek black one, His attention was then shifted from the differently sized luggages to a brown-and-blue blur leaping over his head.

 

Currently, Hana had agreed to play the ‘Cat’ in the ‘Cat-and-Mouse’ game; a rare occurrence – she always grumbled something about getting the worst roles in these games. The three of them darting from one piece of furniture to another as Hana tried her best to catch one of them. The rule of the game was simple; if the ‘Mice’ were caught or landed on the ground, they switched roles with the ‘Cat’, but they had all played the game for so long that they skilfully manoeuvered their way across the bedroom, aided in part by all the miscellaneous items spread across the floor, yet to be packed. It was a pointless game, but Shizuo hadn’t seen them playing anything together in a long time so he didn’t do much to stop it. In fact, he neglected his own packing for the sake of watching them bump around, hearing their giggles and shouts. This was much to the chagrin of Izaya, who was futilely attempting to organise the pile of clothes but whose efforts were in vain as the kids would continuously land on a stray stack of clothing, undoing his hard work. Izaya had the last straw when Haru leapt on a specific grey shirt that Shizuo vaguely remembers as having been important, mussing up the clean folds. Izaya had thrown down a shirt he had been folding, informing them that if their baggage was not packed properly within the next hour, there would be no trip. 

 

“And that includes you too, _Shizu-chan_.” He spat, and slammed the door.

 

The next hour was spent in a tense silence, interspersed with brief gripes and grumbles coming out of Haru. There was no trace of all the bubbly atmosphere from earlier.

 

Shizuo had finished packing his suitcase quickly enough, dumping a few t-shirts and jeans in, as well as some other materials for more extreme climates. He didn’t bother much with ‘emergency’ medicine or anything like that, since it was unlikely he would be affected by anything, but Izaya always reminded him to bring some along.

 

_“Just in case. You’re human too, and as much fun as it would be to take care of a quiet, passive Shizu-chan, I’d rather you start looking out for yourself more so it doesn’t bother me.”_

 

After he was done dumping some extra dye and other products in, he proceeded to help Itsuki with his folding, who was working more diligently than the girls, and whose tiny and stubby hands not being of much help. He was still not out of his baby-fat phase, something that made him self-conscious because all of his friends had skinnier features. Though Shizuo thinks it makes him cute.

 

Fiddling a pair of chubby fingers together, Itsuki was the first to break the silence.

 

“Is Otousan angry at us?”

 

Four shirts down, more to go.

 

“Nah, he’s just stressed. He doesn’t anger easily, and certainly not at you, Suki.”

 

“What crawled up his ass?” Haru tsked at one of her earrings, which got caught against the threading of one of her flashier tops that Shizuo always took offense to. It was a crop-top, and a far too short one at that.

 

“Language!” Hana reminded, then her shoulders slumped forward. “I guess we were too disruptive…”

 

Shizuo chuckled. “Oh please, you guys were nothing compared to how we used to be.”

 

At this, the three of them perked up instantly. Shizuo and Izaya rarely brought up their, _past escapades,_ for lack of a better term. If both of them could agree on one thing it is that the previous lives they led was something they would rather keep on the down-low, at least until the children grew older, often only alluding to certain events and such. In retrospect, tell a kid ‘no’ and they will inevitably seek more. It figured that this would only pique their interest. At every opportunity, they would pester Kasuka, the Twins, Simon, or really, anyone who used to know them in one form or another – which was pretty much everyone – for information. They used to hear the wildest stories, and had probably gathered quite the roster of information. That is, until Izaya got everyone to keep their mouths shut. Shizuo didn’t really know how he managed to do it so effectively, but he was relieved nonetheless. If his kids wanted to know about their…fucked up history, he’d rather they hear it from his and Izaya’s own mouths instead of anyone from the outside looking in.

 

“So? What about you guys?” Haru pestered. Hana nodded at the side, her small frame bouncing in anticipation.

 

“Ah…well. You guys have probably heard it all before. Uprooting signs, destroying the public peace, declarations of murder, knives. Whatever.”

 

“It’s so hard to imagine you like that Otouchan! I can’t imagine the two of you hating each other to that point.”

 

Sometimes, Shizuo can’t imagine it either.

 

“You know, there’s something I’ve always wanted to ask…” Hana began. “How did you ever manage to forgive Otousan, and…be together?”

 

Ah, Shizuo blinked, he’d known this question would come, but he’d hope it’d be a few years down the road.

 

“Ah.”

 

He could always say that he’d answer this question when they were older, but that seemed like the kind of condescending response that Shizuo used to hate. Even though he was guilty of some of it himself.

 

Shizuo paused his folding. “We…used to hurt each other a lot. Yeah. Because I, I hated him, he messed up a big part of my life, and all I wanted to do was get him out of it. No matter what. He began.

 

They were all listening intently now, expressions neutral, focused.

 

Gulping, Shizuo mowed on. He really wished Izaya were here, but has a feeling whatever is happening right now is important, life-changing, even. Probably. 

 

“I’m not saying that what any of what we did was right, or healthy.” God how it burned in his memory. How deeply they’ve marked each other into their skin. “Even if we did hate each other, it wasn’t right. It never was.”

 

“But we did, we did so badly. To the point where we didn’t realise we were both drowning in something that only we could pull each other out of. Over time, though, I started to realise that…he was a person too. You guys know him, he tries to be strong, invincible – and it’s annoying because he’s such an ass about it,” a small giggle from Haru. “but also because that means he won’t trust anyone with himself, you know? I never used to think about it that way, and that was the biggest mistake I made. He made mistakes too, and he’s sorry for them, though he doesn’t like to say it. But we’re all our own person, and we grow beyond our scars.”

 

Shizuo was greeted with silence, each of them taking in the very information they had been yearning to know since they could talk. One time, Izaya was walking past their rooms at night, only to hear them whispering about it.

 

“I…still don’t really get it.” Hana admits, looking so confused and lost.

 

“Yeah, I’m not so good at understanding these things myself, to be honest. But the best way I can put it is that stuff in our past is like a scar on the bark of a small tree.” Or on your chest. “It’ll never go away, but it won’t get bigger, but we can. We keep growing, changing, doing more things and it becomes a smaller part of who we are. But, the things that happened from our past...it brought me here today, and I wouldn’t change this for anything.”

 

There were many things Shizuo left out. Complicated details. Some of which he would only speak of with Izaya. Hell, he didn’t even bring up the period of time where he was sure Izaya was dead. But that bridge would be crossed when the time came, together.

 

The rest of the packing was finished in silence. Unlike before, it was comforting.

 

 

…

 

 

“Oi, you okay?”

 

“Do I appear that way?” Izaya drawled. Pointedly not looking at Shizuo.

 

Shizuo shot back quickly, one eyebrow twitching. “You always do.”

 

Izaya sighs and cringes as he takes a sip of his tea, which had gone lukewarm from being left untouched.

 

Shizuo awkwardly shuffled to the other side of the couch. It seemed that even the years of experience and understanding would never make up for all the awkward moments that were bound to happen between two emotionally stunted individuals.

 

“Sorry.”

 

Shizuo’s eyebrows shot up, if Izaya were not making a conscious effort to face away from Shizuo, he would have surely poked fun at their rapid disappearance into Shizuo’s shaggy bangs.

 

“For earlier. I know, they were having – fun. And it has been a while since we’ve seen Hana and Suki be so civil towards each other.”

 

Izaya was not the apologetic kind, often preferring to ignore fights where he was in the wrong or make up for them with subtle gestures and generally more compliance than usual. Even after years into their relationship, Shizuo could count the number of times Izaya had apologised sincerely to him on one hand.

 

Two.

 

The first time as when he finally admitted he was in love with Shizuo.

 

The second, when they had a big fight. Not the rampaging kind, which they were both well accustomed to. It was the silent, simmering kind, the emotionally exhausting ones that festered and smouldered. Shizuo hardly remembers the catalyst to that event, it was more of a build-up of everything wrong with both of them that had combusted into one giant fire that engulfed them whole.

 

Shizuo didn’t see Izaya for two whole, distressing months.

 

Then one day, Izaya was at his door, looking miserable and so _vulnerable_. The first word to escape the barrier of his lips and break down the wall between them was a simple:

 

_“Sorry.”_

 

They had stayed wrapped up against each other for the whole night.

 

A month later, they were married.

 

Shizuo glanced away.

 

“S’alright. I mean, yeah, they were being loud and distracting. And we only have one more day left, but they’re still young, you know? I love that about them, that they can still be this way.”

 

“Of course you do.” Izaya rolled his eyes and scoffed. More silence, and then a sigh. There was a gentle slant to Izaya’s eyebrows, a stark contrast to his sharp features. He looked almost wistful, sentimental.

 

“They really do remind me of Mairu and Kururi.” There was something so delicately gentle about the way he smiled at the image. “They don’t listen to me.” He rarely talked about them - about growing up. Shizuo loved recalling stories about Kasuka, even if most of them involved them simply talking about nothing in particular, usually at hospitals. Izaya claimed it was boring, a waste of his time, but he never stopped Shizuo from rambling once he started.

 

Izaya had curled into a foetal position, legs tucked against his bodice, and took another sip from his tea. Shizuo chuckled, Izaya looked like a young child like this.

 

“Yeah, wonder where they get it from.”

 

Izaya simply hummed in response. Shizuo spread his arms open and beckoned to Izaya. He took the invitation to put his cup down and crawl to Shizuo’s end of the couch and snuggle up against him.

 

“Mhmm, isn’t it wonderful?”

 

The tea was left untouched for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, I’ve had this idea in my head for a while. Hope you enjoy, it’s likely going to be a part of a bigger series. And regarding the naming system for Shizuo and Izaya, I kind of find it weird to use this Japanese words in the story but I’ll use it for the sake of keeping their origins in Japan, though I would like to hear opinions about it, because I would not mind changing them to more American/English counterparts.
> 
> Otousan/Otouchan– The word for father is お父さん (otousan) which is used when addressing one's father. I used (otouchan) for Shizuo because no one can convince me that Izaya will ever stop referring to Shizuo as Shizu-chan. Their kids picked it up to differentiate the two of them.
> 
> Also, in case it’s confusing, with nicknames like 'Hana-na-chan', no, that wasn't a typo lol. Izaya is just an ass and thought it sounded like 'banana-chan', it stuck. And Itsuki calls Haru “Ha-chi” which is supposed to mean “は一” as in ‘Ha number one’ (no one had the heart to tell him that Ha-chi also means three) and Hana “はに” as in ‘Ha number two’. Hana’s nickname annoys her 1) because it’s from Itsuki and 2) because it makes her sound like ‘older brother’.
> 
> Also, the “stuff in your past” is actually a quote from Vsauce. It was a very poignant quote to me, and you should all go watch Vsauce if you haven’t, it’s something else.
> 
> Anyway, hope this will be the longest Author’s Note. lol.


	2. Deigo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shizuo is a protective father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, I couldn't get this up for Shizuo's birthday ;-;. Will I ever overcome my extreme laziness? Anyway, happy belated birthday to this amazing character! Woefully, your birthday gift shall be filled with conflict. As usual.

 

Izaya was the first to awake on the day of departure. He shot out of bed ten minutes before the alarm went off and meandered his way towards the kitchen to prepare two cups of black coffee and three glasses of milk. At moments like this, he wonders when such mundane routines have always felt so natural to him. He spent a while stirring sugar into the other cup of coffee before he realised that he was not alone.

 

“Ah, Suki-chan, you’re up early.”

 

Itsuki rubbed his eyes drowsily. Without a word, he walked forward and latched to the hem of Izaya’s nightshirt and buried his face against it, muttering something soft.

 

“Don’t mumble now, it’s unbecoming of a young child like you.” Despite that, his hand was caressing his familiar, shaggy hair soothingly. Shizuo liked to say that Itsuki acted like him a lot, which wasn’t exactly a baseless assumption. Though, besides his tendency for snark and the colour of his eyes, which were his exact shade of carmine, everything about his posture and mannerism were so decidedly Shizuo that it made him weirdly emotional. Izaya had only seen a few pictures of a young Shizu-chan, untouched by the burdens of his own body, and he had occasionally entertained the idea of what he would have been like. Izaya never liked dwelling on it for too long. The past is drivel.

 

Itsuki’s voice brought him out of his reverie, it was trembling. “N’mare.”

 

“Hmm, do you want to talk about it, then?”

 

He shook his head hesitantly.

 

“Well, if you change your mind, you know you can tell me anything. I’m very good at keeping secrets, remember?” He hummed as he drew a finger vertically over his lips.

 

Itsuki’s eyes lit up at that, and he grinned, repeating the gesture. Such an innocent gesture made Izaya wonder if Itsuki really was his sometimes, and that Shinra did not steal him from somewhere far, far away. Truthfully, he had been a bit paranoid about this the first time Shinra claimed he could extract the genomes from male sperms, fuse them and modify it into an egg in one of his odd _‘experiments’_ , but he and Shizuo thought there was nothing to be lost from trying, concerning as it was to provide Shinra with their…seminal fluids. The bearer had been a complete stranger, though. Detached from them all, and sometimes that detachment was plain to see.

 

Gently, Izaya picked Itsuki up and placed him on the counter where he drank his milk silently. Izaya sipped his coffee while tugging softly on the ends of his coffee-brown hair. During his infancy, Itsuki was a curious child and prone to tugging on anything that caught his eye. Often, he would be fascinated with his own hair, and it eventually became a reassuring action that always managed to calm him down.

 

Down the hall came the incessant beeping of an alarm followed by a pair of shuffling, heavy feet. Yawning, Shizuo sloppily placed a kiss on Izaya’s cheek and the top of Itsuki’s head, who only looked slightly disgruntled by the act.

 

“Mornin’.” Shizuo gruffed out, and gulped down the biggest glass of milk in mere seconds.

 

“Don’t you look lively. Suki-chan, since you’re done with yours do go wake up your sisters.”

 

“’Kay.” He set his glass in the sink and slid of the counter easily and made his way down the hall. Entering the room quietly, he took a deep breath.

 

“Ha-chi! Ha-ni! Wake up, you guys overslept! The flight’s in twenty minutes we need to rush!”

 

Hana leapt out of bed, shocked, eyes bugging out from their sockets, it was comical.

 

“What!? You brat, why didn’t you wake us up earlier! Now look – oh god – we’re going to miss everything and – “

 

It was at this moment that Haru chose to slide out of bed, grumbling as she did so. “Chill sis, he’s just trolling you. As if Otousan would ever wake up late.”

 

“But - I - but –“ She sputtered, then her eyes narrowed.

 

“You LITTLE – COME BACK HERE.”

 

“OK! Nice to see that everyone is awake! Ha-chi-and-ni why don’t you two finish your drinks then we can get prepared to leave, ne?”

 

Hana glowered at Itsuki the whole time, who only stuck out his tongue in response.

 

“What a little trickster.” Izaya bent down and smirked, playfully pinching Itsuki’s cheeks. He shrugged and didn’t lean away, not completely disliking the act.

 

“That was mean, Suki. Your sister’s just anxious.” Shizuo lectured.

 

Itsuki rolled his eyes, looking bored as ever. “Got the job done, right?”

 

They got dressed at a leisurely pace. Izaya double-checking if they had all their passports and plane tickets with them. They had stuck to Economic class in the end, per Shizuo’s request. Shizuo was more hesitant on spending money, especially after just looking at the cost of the hotel rooms. Izaya had always made more money than him, obviously. Shizuo would be forty-five come next January (Izaya would be forty-six come next May, Shizuo intends to have birthday sex if he’s up for it, though he worries it might come off as a bit selfish, even though Izaya always ends up begging for it every year) and the most amount of money he ever owned was given to him by his brother, which was pretty shameful on his part. But he was never fit for the salaryman job.

 

Money never used to bother him too much – everything else besides killing Izaya was usually just a minor annoyance – so Shizuo was content living paycheck-to-paycheck. He never owned more than what he needed. It just seemed too troublesome to pay for useless items like a vase to decorate the living area. What was that piece of shit going to do in a few years other than gather dust anyway? (Besides, he would have probably broken it.) Moreover, the means Izaya used to obtain his wealth were sketchy at best, downright illegal at worst, so Shizuo always saw it as a sort of extra layer of filth that added to his image of him.

 

Well, that was until he realised that, without Izaya, he probably wouldn’t have the means to pay for his children’s education. Or have children at all, actually. Besides, Izaya wasn’t dabbling in those sorts of nefarious activities these days – mostly, anyway. Though he did think that the kids picked up Izaya’s frivolous spending of money. Izaya thinks it is a valid concern, but it was not as if he would ever let any of them get to the point where they would be living in any condition below _‘comfortable’._

 

“Soo, where are we going? You guys still haven’t told us yet. Unless you intend to keep it as a surprise, I don’t mind.” Haru said.

Izaya handed her the paper with their itinerary on it, packed full with information on everything. Shizuo winces at the bright red used for budgeting. Those sorts of things should come up in the future. Hana and Itsuki scooted closer to look while Izaya summarised everything.

 

“First three days is in Okinawa to satisfy _Daddy’s_ –“ Shizuo nearly fucking tripped over his own legs. “nature cravings. Then after that we’re returning to Narita airport to get our luggage and heading straight to Florida – state in America where Disney World is at.” He explained before one of them could ask. “There’s also going to be a homestay programme in America, an elderly couple who aren’t bothered about same-sex couples. You all have your camping bags prepared, right? There’s no shopping malls near the site, so you should make sure you have everything unless you’re all spectacular seamstresses who can turn the leaves into shirts.”  
  
Three unimpressed, unison sounds of “yeah” filled the room.

“Then let’s go.”

 

…

 

Izaya was driving.

 

Shinjuku was neon bright as they drove through the streets, towards the highway. Over the years Shizuo had gotten familiar with the bustling nature of the city, which was similar to Ikebukuro, but felt livelier, or maybe he was just being biased. Ikebukuro was quieter at night, masking the shady deals being made in the shadowy corners of alleyways. Shizuo thought of what he himself did in those alleyways and looked away from the windows.

 

The three of them had fallen asleep at one point. They were all leaning towards the right, inadvertently putting the most weight on Haru, who didn’t look the slightest bit bothered at all. The image from the rear-view mirror was sweet, a peaceful moment between the three, the lights of the streets and cars on the highway reflected back on the windows. A sight like this stirred something soft inside of Izaya, and made him want to snap a picture to document the moment.

 

“Shizu-chan, quick, get out your phone.” He whispered, eyes still focused ahead.

 

“My phone, what the heck for?” He asked, disgruntled. He had been about to fall asleep.

 

“Look behind, protozoan. Isn’t it adorable? I want a picture we can embarrass them with in the future.”

 

Shizuo rolled his eyes, but complied with the request, finding the scene behind him to be amazing. He fumbled with the camera for a while, never quite being able to get the hang of these touch-screen phones. They felt more fragile.

 

Unfortunately, the camera wasn’t too soft, and Hana stirred awake. She rubbed her eyes before asking. “Are we there yet?”

 

“Nah, we still got a while more, go back to sleep, sweetie.” Shizuo whispered, trying to inconspicuously put back his phone. Luckily, Hana was too tired to be completely aware of her surroundings and had fallen asleep a few minutes after.

 

Soon, they reached the brightly lit terminal. Shizuo was sure that they had packed everything, he was certain. So why then, when they reached the airport did he still feel so unsure?

 

 

 

They parked their car at one of the lots and proceeded to the checkout area. There was still around an hour left till boarding time so they decided to wander around the place a bit. The kids had inherited Shizuo’s general impatience at everything and Izaya’s need for constant entertainment so they tended to beg for goodies while they were waiting for anything, especially at someplace new. And the last time they went to an airport was to visit the twins in Hokkaido nine years ago, and neither Itsuki nor Hana were there. It was before the ‘falling out’ happened – so to speak, and the only memorable thing Shizuo can really recall was Haru scraping her knee with a conveniently placed fork. At the time, it was terrifying, but Shizuo had to admit the story was hilarious when he looked back on it.

Shizuo glanced at Izaya, who was eyeing some mid-twenties couple in one of those expensive branded jewellery shops. Thinking back to Hokkaido was depressing. Despite technically being Haru’s biological (mothers?), a weird and slightly disturbing fact for any child to take, really, Mairu and Kururi weren’t close to them. Not in the same way Kasuka was, at least, who was updated with things like how they were doing at school and who the kids talked to frequently. There was a time where they were, though. Where New Year’s was filled with laughter and bubbling excitement from one more mouth and there was an additional calming presence to balance things out. However, the ‘falling out’ or – as Izaya would bitterly call it, the: “Long-Awaited Separation” happened.

 

A few years ago, when the twins hit twenty-one, never willing to be separated from each other, had gone together to some University in Hokkaido – Sapporo, was it? – to study ‘Child Development’. Shizuo isn’t aware of all the details but some fight with their disapproving parents happened and Izaya was basically bankrolling their education all throughout University. Shizuo used to think it was because their field hit a bit too close to home, and that despite everything that Izaya has ever said he feels some semblance of guilt over the past.

 

Around the time that they finished their course, Shizuo and Izaya had already gotten hitched and were discussing children. Of course, Mairu and Kururi were over the moon, and, well, yeah. For a while, things were nice. When they decided to have Itsuki he was conceived with a surrogate, per Izaya’s request. And Shizuo was relieved – it would be far too weird and immoral to have gone back to the first. The twins were never told this, however, and only found out Itsuki was born around two years after, where they planned a surprise visit on Shizuo’s thirty-eighth birthday.

 

Not the best day.  

 

The twins weren’t mad when they found out, oh no, they were beyond livid. And Shizuo was too; he had simply assumed Izaya told them. Of course he hadn’t. And in a lot of ways, Shizuo could understand that, and in a lot of ways, he just couldn’t. All the pent-up emotions built on years and years worth of contempt, pain, guilt and a twisted sort of familial love spilled through. Izaya once introduced him to the phrase _“Every happy family is happy the same way, every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”_ Shizuo disagrees, every unhappy family was unhappy in the same way – they simply rejected proper communication until they could not avoid it anymore. All the progress Izaya had slowly been redeeming was gone in a flash. It was so easy to break things but so difficult to build them up.

 

That had been eight years ago. As far as he knew, Izaya never kept in touch after that, nor did he try to. Directly, anyway. Shizuo disagrees strongly, but he restrains himself from prying too much; Izaya would figure it out in his own time, or he wouldn’t.

 

A strong tug on his sleeve – must be Haru – brought him out of his thoughts and back to the present. He felt momentarily blinded by the almost clinical and formal lights in the airport. They were surrounded by the bright, branded shops, and Shizuo felt very much like a foreigner in his own country. Three more unintentionally harsh tugs on his sleeve caught his attention again. Haru was peering hopefully at him, using those sly puppy eyes that always indicated she wanted something. More often than not, Shizuo relented.

 

“There’s a candy shop over there! I want some Cheesecake Factory, _please?_ ” Shizuo really can’t deny that face – and dairy-related foods.

 

They ended up spending more time than expected at the shop. When Itsuki and Haru were done picking out their snacks, Hana was still scrounging through the shelves. She was picky with what she liked to eat so she and Izaya ended up looking through nearly all the items there. They were deliberating for so long that they almost ran out of time so she quickly grabbed a packet of mints and they rushed back to catch their flight.

 

The entire flight was nothing short of uncomfortable. At least, on Shizuo’s end. Izaya claimed he didn’t mind Economic, saying that it was an interesting way to pass the time, though he looked slightly put off having gotten used to flying no less than Business Class. Yet in no time at all he had started chatting up the young-looking lady in the aisle opposite his. They weren’t able to find seats that would allow them all to be seated together, so Itsuki was defaulted with Izaya. They had found out a few years ago that in new environments, he was very difficult to put to sleep without Izaya nearby. He was like Shizuo in that respect, who held a strong protection for the things he loved. Though the protectiveness worried Shizuo – or maybe it made sense – considering Izaya’s repertoire. Haru preferred window seats, and was situated beside Itsuki. Shizuo and Hana were about two rows beside them and across the aisle. The distance felt like it spanned an entire continent.

 

Shizuo squeezed into the middle seat, leaving Hana to take the aisle chair. This was because the bloated man beside him looked suspicious and Shizuo caught him eyeing Hana in a weird way. One strong glare was enough to leave him trembling and he didn’t bother them much throughout the flight, with Shizuo acting as a buffer. The only other time Shizuo got pissed was when the man had to leave to use the on-flight bathroom. Shizuo forced Hana to leave her seat completely while he stood protectively in front of her as they waited one seat back, both disgruntled for different reasons, until the guy got back. It earned them a lot of weird stares. Shizuo wasn’t offered a mint for the rest of the two hours.

 

When they landed at Miyako Airport, they immediately hailed a taxi to the site that they would be staying at. The place was annoyingly titled _“Ocean’s Drive_ ” but Shizuo had to relent since it _was_ his idea.

 

“Well, welcome to no technology for three days. Whipee.” Was Haru’s first words upon arrival.

 

Shizuo had insisted that their phones and electronic devices be kept away for this part of the trip. He never liked it when Izaya ignored him for _click-clacking_ in front of one of his monitors, and over the years Haru and Hana seemed to be more in favour of staring at their phones instead of talking to him. He hated it.

 

They had generally given their kids a lot of freedom when it came to technology, since Izaya believes it’s stupid to keep children away from things that they will eventually find out about either way. Though he did link all their accounts to his so he could monitor their search histories and make sure they weren’t going anywhere too… _unsafe_. But Shizuo was afraid that they were smart enough to get around it, somehow. He had heard stories about deep recesses of the Internet from Izaya before, likely personal experiences, and he imagined his kids doing the same, somehow managing to bypass Izaya’s security. It made him shudder.

 

The location they were at was secluded, with barely a soul around. They began by setting up their camp site. Unfortunately, one of the tents that Izaya brought had ended up being punctured by one of Izaya’s blades on board the flight – how he managed to sneak it in remained a mystery. And a bad example.

 

“Oh this is just _wonderful_. We are off to a great start aren’t we?” Izaya hissed, flinging the now-useless tent to the ground and stomping on it, with a weird sort of glee? Shizuo couldn’t really tell.

 

“Why did you even bring that?” Haru questioned, looking aloofly at her father’s less than mature actions.

 

“Don’t be so glib.” Izaya lectured with one final stomp, his spirits seemed to have been lifted.

 

“Right, right. You’re doing quite well yourself.”

 

They ended up leaving the kids to have the one remaining tent while Shizuo and Izaya set up their items right outside.

 

“Really what did I expect from this?” Izaya muttered.

 

“Shut up. You know, if you hadn’t spent the other money on that upgraded suite we could have bought one more sleeping bag. Then we wouldn’t have this crap problem.”

 

“Bah humbug, Scrooge!”

 

“What?”

 

“Ah, nothing.”

 

Izaya just shrugged. “At least we can fulfil your wish of sleeping under the stars, even if we have to share it with the worms and mosquitoes and weird beasts lurking around. You’ll be right at home, won’t you?”

 

“Where are the bathrooms?” Itsuki asked as Shizuo took a swipe at Izaya.

 

“Here’s a map, follow the red trail and it’ll get you kids there.”

 

“Right, because I’m just _so_ psyched to be able to pee in the wilderness.” Haru said. But she snatched the paper regardless.

 

“Stop it with the attitude.” Izaya said and Haru relented, albeit reluctantly.

 

“You’re not going to pee in the wilderness, the local bathroom is nearby and it’s walled off for when you need to do that.”

 

“’Nearby’ my – foot! It’s at least a fifteen-minute walk away. And it’s public, gross.”

 

“Dapper.” Itsuki supplied helpfully.

 

They were sheltered city kids through and through, alright.

 

“You’re right, much better to relieve yourselves in the open wilderness with countless little beings scurrying here and there.” Izaya said.

 

“Ew!”

 

“Don’t scare them like that.” Shizuo glared and Izaya scoffed and turned away, arranging their spot to something more resembling an actual campsite. “C’mon, this was my one thing, after this we’ll get to go to the hotels and stuff.”

 

“I’m just saying this whole thing might be a bit too tough for our delicate flowers.”

 

“I can do it!” Hana said indignantly, and stormed ahead in front of them, grabbing the map from a grim-faced and silent Haru.

 

“Act like you can if you want to prove it!” Izaya called after her. Shizuo wasn’t sure if that comment was masterful manipulation on Izaya’s part or just a happy accident, but the kids stopped complaining and followed Hana.

 

…

 

“This doesn’t look like it was on the trail we were supposed to follow.”

 

“You’re not helping.” She hissed.

 

“We’re lost.” Itsuki tried again after a few more minutes of aimless wondering. They had somehow ended up in front of a river bank that definitely wasn’t supposed to be there.

 

“Would you _shut up_.” Hana very much commanded.

 

They had one job. Find the bathroom so that Itsuki wouldn’t – piss himself. They failed.

 

It wasn’t Hana’s fault – not exactly. She just didn’t like falling behind, and it wasn’t like she was ‘delicate’ or unfit or anything, she just naturally didn’t have enough stamina as the rest of them. And she was the one holding the map! She couldn’t be too slow but she also felt unexpectedly pressured. It was moments like this that made her really question how much legitimacy she had in her inclusion of this family.

 

She had been excited when she first got adopted. Terrified, but thrilled. When her Otouchan had broken down the door of that place and with him, her Otousan walked calmly into the decrepit room, with wallpaper and paint peeling off the sides. His coat was fluttering as he walked, much like a cape – or maybe wings. Which was ironic. But what she remembered the most was when he Otouchan took one look around and immediately ran forward to aim a punch at _that_ man.

 

She didn’t see much after that, because someone had covered her in a warm darkness and brought her out into the light.

 

But she knew that a few seconds later, her Otouchan had walked out, a strange look in his eyes.

 

_That was so fast! What happened in there, it was as if he had managed to fight him off in a few seconds! That was so cool…_

 

Those were her last few thoughts before she snuggled into the comfortable black, fuzzy material surrounding her and drifted to sleep, and unlike her past, she was looking forward to what would happen tomorrow

 

She recalls after that, being introduced to two other kids around her age. But she didn’t _feel_ scared, and that was such an amazing first. She had warmed up to them fast enough, though the boy, _Itsuki_ , could be terribly annoying and insensitive when he wanted to, but before she knew it, she thought of them as family.

 

Until she saw her sister lift the table, that was.

 

She had felt…inferior. That must have been how her parents were able to fend off that man, how she was able to be free.

 

And in that moment, she hated not being like them. Not being strong, having not been able to fight in the past. It all made sense.

 

She, was weak.

 

She had asked Otousan one time, why they wanted to – have another child. _Non biological child_ went unsaid between them. She was jittery and nervous when she finally blurted out the question after a horrible day at school. She admired her Otousan, but he wasn’t the type she talked to about her feelings and stuff. Except about boys and shampoos and surface stuff like that – he was great at those. He looked at her with an odd stare in his eyes, not quite pity but definitely something more morose.

 

“You might not like it.” He crossed his legs while saying so, looking dead into her brown eyes – muddy, and unlike _theirs_.

 

“Try me.” She straightened her posture and copied his neatly crossed legs. She liked how posh Izaya was, (even though sometimes he acted very weirdly for a man, like skipping around the shopping mall). He was brimming with confidence and a different type of strength than Shizuo.

 

If she couldn’t have the other, then she would have this.

 

“When we first had Haru, we found out soon enough that she had inherited Shizuo’s lack of a natural limiter in her brain.” He began.

 

“I don’t suppose we have mentioned this before, but your father’s strength…it isn’t as simple as it seems. I used to think too, that his body was simply inhumane, and that he was born with such a thing, but as it turns out, he had suffered through many pains to reach this point.”

 

“Well,” He huffed, but the small quirk in his lips revealed his amusement. “Not that he wanted to in the first place, but he’s very contradictory.”

 

“His bones regenerate stronger every time they are broken, so you can imagine the things he had to go through to get to this point.” Hana winced. “Blank white hospitals where he couldn’t move a single muscle, days spent peering over his shoulders in case of any gang members looking to pick fights, social isolation. They were all very tangible realities for him. Well, not that I helped much with those.” He muttered.

 

“As you can imagine, when he learned of this, he was very. Conflicted. Said he would never wish that sort of loneliness on anyone, much less his own child.”

 

“That was when I came into the picture?” She asked, she kept a stiff upper lip.

 

Izaya shrugged. “Shizu-chan is too scared of the implications, scared of what it meant for us. Even though I braced myself for something like this happening I have to admit, I was a bit floored. Haru had a few cases but it wasn’t as if we would stop her, if she has to express herself that way then who are we to stop her? Humans are best when they make their own choices. Afterwards, when we had your brother, the same thing happened again. Shizu-chan has always hated himself because of his strength, he almost destroyed himself over it, as I did over – um, anyway.” He coughed.

 

“We adopted because we wanted to, but also because, perhaps Shizu-chan wanted a sense of normalcy as well, and I, I obliged. Of course, two men in Japan aren’t able to adopt legally, at least by normal means.”

 

 _So is that all I am to the both of you?_ She clenched her dress tighter, holding back her tears. _Just the bit of normalcy, the bit of humanity that you were both seeking?_

She wanted to scream, she wanted to shout, she wanted to punch _something_. Take her frustrations out on anything, she hated feeling so _useless_.

 

Suddenly, she was being enveloped in a familiar dark warmth. “The world is cruel. What we did was selfish, and perhaps a compromise, but you’re your own person, and you’re part of this terrifying family.”

 

She spent the whole afternoon crying into his shoulder as Izaya gently ran his fingers through her hair.  

 

“ – na! Hana!” Haru was waving her hands in front of her face, she blinked and snapped out of it.

 

She let out a low whistle, “What were you even thinking about? Is the heat getting to you? I told you to tie your hair up like me.” She put their foreheads together and closed her eyes, concerned.

 

Hana brushed her off. “I’m fine! I’m fine! Go away weirdo.” She murmured, she really didn’t like that method of taking temperature, she knows her Otouchan does it but – who could accurately tell someone’s body temperature that way anyway?!

 

“Hmm. Anyway, I told Suki to just go pee in the river bank so at least we have one problem solved. Aaahh, what are we gonna do now?”

 

Hana pulled her long, glossy hair into two sharp pigtails, making it look not unlike a pair of jet-black blades, a nervous trait of hers that she developed likely before her inclusion in the family. It reminded Haru very much of how stressed parrots would pull out their feathers in high-pressure environments.

 

She sometimes entertained the idea of having a parrot companion that would help Hana calm down. Or some sort of animal. They never got a pet. Hana was extremely fond of dogs, but Izaya and Itsuki disliked them far too much. Haru loved everything and Shizuo was more neutral, both preferring to share their affections with most animals that looked cuddly and inviting enough. But the discussion over the matter never really died down. The decision was too split and it was a big reason as to why Hana and Itsuki were always butting heads, being a dangerous mix of clashing personalities and immaturity that she saw in her parents sometimes. A combination that made everyone worried. She wasn’t dense, she could tell when the two of them were about to snap and so she sent Itsuki to do his ‘business’ somewhere else for them both to cool off.

 

No one liked it when they snapped at each other. She recalls, one point, where the Great Pet Debate got so bad that it left the two of them biting and scratching at each other. Izaya was livid, and that was the end of the whole thing. Haru thinks that was the time where Itsuki grew closer to Izaya, more protective. Prior to that, Itsuki had never seen Izaya blow up in that manner before, more accustomed to his often cold and unusual displays of displeasure. Haru knows what it’s like to see that image of someone break away, or more accurately, shed to reveal something deeper. Izaya hasn’t gotten that angry since.

 

“Oi, oi, don’t worry too much.” She reassured, ruffling Hana’s hair – and feels something stirring in her chest. She hasn’t done that since she was eight.

 

“We’ll be fine, we’ll find them.”

 

_And they’ll find us._

 

…

 

Izaya was still sulking by the time Shizuo had finished setting up the tents. Who, by the way, did all the work. Izaya did not help out at all. Shizuo felt like making a remark about his age – something that would always rile Izaya up – but decided against it.

 

He came here to enjoy himself with his family and goddamn it to hell if he wouldn’t go through with that. Annoying husband or no.

 

“You look great,” Shizuo blurted. And he was being honest, Shizuo thinks Izaya would look great even in a post-apocalypse.

 

“Don’t flatter me, I know I’m, old.” He shuddered and said the last word as though it was a curse.

 

“Ah, you’re not that bad. And you still got all your hair. Not everyone our age is so lucky.”

 

“Dotachin.” Izaya says, smirking. And Shizuo can’t help laughing even though he feels like he should hold it in, on behalf of Kadota’s dignity.

 

Kadota was one of the few people who simply accepted what had happened for what it was – albeit, slightly disbelieving – being that it was always in his nature to go with the flow. When they walked past each other days after news of Shizuo and Izaya’s – evolved relations got out, he simply pat Shizuo on the shoulder and said:

 

“Domesticity is a good look for you guys, but try not to destroy the rest of the town with one of your lover’s spats, okay?”

 

Something about the fact that he didn’t even meet Shizuo’s eyes as he said it made the gesture feel sincere.

 

Though, the years had not been as kind to his looks as he was to them. He was balding at the top of his head, not noticeable at first but impossible to ignore once you realised. Ironically, it was at this point where he chose to stop wearing his iconic beanie. Currently, he was married to Erika, who had never grown out of her ‘Shizaya’ phase – Shizuo hated that name – and still oogled and made remarks about them when they were invited over for any special events. Walker had once said that he felt very nostalgic when she did so, looking wiser than Shizuo remembers – if he ever was. She had gone as far as to include _them_ in her wedding speech, a point that drove her to tears, while Kadota awkwardly comforted her at the altar. He smiled genuinely the whole time, and Shizuo respected him more for that. Though Shizuo thought that this whole thing was very creepy, Izaya took it in stride, if only slightly annoyed. She was always the one who managed to make their murder rampages sound more like romances – and was scarily convinced by her own retellings as well – and the kids ate it up until either Shizuo or Izaya ushered them away.

 

“Would you leave me if I lost my hair?” Izaya asked, touching it. He meant to pass it off as a joke but he sounded scarily serious.

 

“No.” Shizuo said. “Any you’re not going to lose it. You don’t have the baldness genes.”

“How would you know? I can’t even remember the last time we’ve seen my parents, if ever.” They had, twice. “And it will go grey, though,” Izaya said, wincing. “I’ll have to start colouring it. You should start recommending me some brands. Who knows, maybe I’ll even bleach it!”

 

Shizuo couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Izaya with his trademark blonde hair. He’d been planning to stop dyeing it soon – after the trip. Truthfully, he’d wanted to stop around five years ago. It had served its purpose; Shizuo wasn’t getting ambushed anymore – then again, his hair never actually helped him in that respect – where it seemed like too much of a bother. He kept on going because when he asked Haru she looked at him a bit weird.

 

“Please, _never.”_

 

He stared fondly at Izaya. The light from the setting sun framing the colours of his face quite nicely.

 

Wait.

 

Setting sun?

 

…

 

“What are we going to do?”

 

They had been walking around for well over half-an-hour. By now, the sky had started to darken, only serving to increase their anxiety.

 

“We should retrace our steps.” Itsuki provided.

 

“We _are_.” Hana snapped back abrasively.

 

“What’s your problem? You got us here in the first place.”

 

“I _will_ choke you.”

 

“Both of you just _stop_. God, why can’t you give it a rest already.” Haru angrily stomps ahead, she’s absolutely done with their constant bickering. Why can’t they just get along? Was it that difficult, that humiliating for two people to just put apart their differences and let things go? Why was it so difficult – was it her? Did she simply have such a twisted view of people that she could not connect with their emotions?

 

These thoughts reeled in her head, beating her down as she kept moving _forward._ Because as far as she was concerned that was the only path to go. Linear and straight ahead, she would not listen to anything else that would distract her.

 

Of course, that included warnings as well.

 

“ _Haru!”_

 

She felt her leg spike with a sudden bout of pain and a few seconds later she was kissing the ground. Again and again, sharp twigs and dried leaves scratching against her exposed skin as the terrain got steeper until she felt herself stop. Her mind soon after.

 

 

Horror mars the thoughts and actions of one’s body. The emotions running high after viewing some drastically terrifying series of events leaves one unstable and vulnerable for any form of attack, or simply increased the amount of lost time. It is why surprise attacks have such an advantage over individuals, the unexpected nature of the situation working well to take out the enemy. After all, sometimes, a split second is all it takes to determine the choice between life and death.

 

Certainly, feelings were a bit of a pain sometimes.

 

At least, that was what Itsuki was thinking as he saw his sister’s crumpled body all the way down there. _She looks so small_. Was what he thought next. He hadn’t known he was standing still, as if he expected time to stop just for him. He still wasn’t moving, even as he watched Hana surge forward, gracefully jumping over the extra roots and branches that a mere seconds before looked much more inviting.

 

He could not move.

 

_Why?_

 

 

He only snaps out of it when he sees Hana screaming at him to _help_. Itsuki quickly clambers down, less skilled in dodging the craggy ground in front of him. Only when he is nearer is he able to assess the damage.

 

Haru’s leg was bleeding from getting scratched up by all the branches, though other than that she was only mildly bruised. No, the main problem now was that she was knocked out. The threat could range from being tired and impacted to a concussion, which they had no means of getting help for right now.

 

“What do we _do?”_

 

Itsuki tries his best to calm his breathing. “Ok. First things first, check her airway and pulse, if it’s normal then it’s likely just a blunt force injury and she should be fine.” _Very likely, please._ “If it’s anything serious, then we should perform a standard CPR, but that’s a worse case scenario – she’ll probably be awake within a few minutes.” _Yeah, yeah_. “Just make sure that she stays on her back.”

 

Hana nods and proceeds to lay Haru down in a more comfortable and _safe_ position. From there, she hesitantly reaches her hand forward to feel Haru’s pulse.

 

She breathes heavily, and everything feels okay.

 

“Thank _god_ , she’s fine.”

 

A few minutes later, she’s stirring and groggy and dizzy and it feels like it’s still morning and they haven’t left home at all. They both bombard her with a hug that knocks a bit of air out of her lungs, which they quickly apologise for later.

  

…

 

_“What the fuck.”_

 

It hadn’t even been a day and already, something just _had_ to fucking happen.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , where are they?” Shizuo swears he’ll fucking _kill_ the forest if he had to, nature be goddamn damned.

 

“Calm down, they’ll be safe.”

 

“Why are you so fucking calm, _hah?_ ” Shit, he was losing his temper.

 

“Unlike you, they’re smart, and I already briefed them in case an event like this were to happen – “

 

“Well if you’re so fucking prepared then do you know where the fuck _our kids are?!”_ He forcefully gripped the base of a nearby tree, fingers digging into the solid bark, ready to fling it at anything, something, _someone –_

 

“ _Shizuo.”_

He stopped.

 

“What do you think flinging a _fucking_ _tree_ is going to do. I know it’s near impossible but control yourself right now, because we have more important matters at hand. That godforsaken temper of yours isn’t going to help us right now. What if you were to throw that thing out of rage and it hits one of them and they get injured? Worst of all, we won’t know until we get there. So for the love of _god_ , calm down!”

 

Shizuo stills his movements. Silently, slowly, he retracted his hands from where they dug cracks and craters into the bark of the tree and stuffed it into his pockets. Izaya was right. The mental image of his children being subject to one of his violent sprees caused unbearable amounts of pain to Shizuo. Shizuo never wanted to hurt the people he loved, ever, but it always feels like that was what he always did. It seemed that Shizuo had forgotten himself back there. And Izaya. What was it that Shinra said to him before?

 

_“He’s a guy who thrives on keeping secrets. As in, he likely won’t tell you anything you actually want to hear, so it can be very difficult to read him sometimes.”_

Shizuo was terrible at reading the atmosphere, worse still at reading other people. He had not realised that Izaya was so nervous. A small part of him doesn’t want to admit that he never even considered Izaya would be.

 

So, he kept silent. Izaya kept on walking, and Shizuo kept on following, just like he always does.

 

 

Izaya had an idea of where they got lost at. He had studied the comprehensive map of the area and noticed that there was a nearby stream off-route to the public baths. It was likely there where they had ended up, if Itsuki really had to go about his business. And they were probably heading back from there.

 

He finds them due to all the commotion.

 

“Oh _fuck_ , _oh shit you’re all okay._ ”

 

Shizuo rushed to gather them all in his arms.

 

“It was only a few hours, we’re okay.” Hana tried to reason, but she clung back just as tightly.

 

“You’re crushing us.” Itsuki complained, though he was trembling too.

 

After he let them all go, Izaya had gone straight to Haru first, using his switchblade to expertly cut off a section of his shirt to treat her wounds. He worked swiftly, though a medical professional (Read: Shinra) would have been able to spot the slightly shaking hands and the sloppy bandaging. After that, he began analysing Itsuki and Hana for injuries, infections, bruises, cuts and whatever until he made sure that they were clean.

 

Their walk back was tranquil. Shizuo found that to be greatly disturbing.

 

They all squeezed into the same tent that night, foregoing the outside campfire they had made. It was cramped but far from unwelcome, with Shizuo and Izaya flanking both Hana and Itsuki protectively, while Haru was in the middle. Sleeping together as a family was something that they hadn’t done since the night following their second (and last) visit with Izaya’s parents, when Izaya was unnaturally quiet and clumsy in a way that had frightened all of them. It was a bad time, but there was comfort to be found in it, for the time being.

 

Huddled together in a barely big enough space was where Shizuo found his peace.

 

 

That night he dreamt of typhoons destroying the city, sweeping his friends and family away from him, one by one. It wasn’t so much as they were fleeing _from_ the winds, but rather felt like everyone else was trying to catch up with the great storm that seemed to be abandoning them, only to end up lost. He watched as these faceless people being swept away soon took the form of Kasuka, Varona, even Celty. The last one to be swept away by the flow of the crushing winds was Izaya, hand outstretched and face filled with a terrifying emotion that Shizuo has never seen before. The last image he saw before he woke up in a cold sweat was Izaya’s outstretched hand from a sea of grey.

 

Shizuo blinked awake. Stressed, he hugged Hana closer. He was awake until the first shine of the morning light broke through.

 

In his dream, he was the typhoon.

 

…

 

Following yesterday, Shizuo and Izaya were adamant on not letting anyone out of their sights. Izaya guided them to the public bath in the morning whilst Shizuo would follow behind protectively.

 

Right now, they were following their hiking trail. Their walking arrangement the same as it had been the previous night. Over the course, they had encountered many fascinating creatures and plants native to Okinawa, and it started to feel like how Shizuo wanted it to be.

 

Sometime later, Shizuo noticed that Itsuki was trailing behind slightly, and jogged forward to catch up to him.

 

“Are you okay?” Shizuo blanched at his question, sounding like an estranged adult.

 

“Uh-huh.” He said, clearly not, and the two carried on walking, remaining in this awkward quiet.

 

Unfortunate as it was, this was a common routine between the two of them, and Shizuo never knew how to get out of it. It was not as if they didn’t care for each other, but neither of them ever had the right things to say, which left them both side eyed and clammy. More so for Itsuki, who today looked weary and tired, a sight which made Shizuo feel useless. He needed to be a better conversationalist, for fucks sake.

 

“Hey, did you see those red flowers that looked like fans?” Shizuo asked.

 

He had. They discussed the Deigo flower for the rest of the walk and Shizuo felt like he was in paradise. He had researched on the hiking spot, as well as the wildlife here in his efforts to prepare himself for any nature-related questions so that Izaya would not always be the one doing the explaining. The rest of them got engaged in Shizuo’s explanation after a while. He had answers for all their questions.

 

The thing was, Izaya was competitive, to a downright fault. And if Shizuo of all people managed to master something before he could it might very well depress him for days. What it came down to was that Izaya liked attention, and he was nothing if not resourceful.

 

He soon started to explain everything. It was subtle at first, the few yellow flowers scattered about, the native birds – but a silent competition was brewing and Shizuo was surprised to find how _excited_ he was feeling.

 

They somehow managed to circle back to the discussion on Okinawa’s official flower, and Shizuo almost had to concede defeat for that one.

 

“The blossoming of the _Deigo_ is considered a symbol of good fortune and prosperity. However, it’s said that if there was an exceptionally full bloom, it was taken as a sign of a coming misfortune or disaster whether in the form of a typhoon, drought or famine. There was also the popular song  _Shima Uta_  by The Boom, with the opening lines, _Deigo no hana ga saki, kaze wo yobi, arashi ga kita_ _._ A reference to this traditional folk belief regarding the flowers, with the song as a whole alluding, or referring, to the Battle of Okinawa, frequently called the _"Typhoon of Steel."_ The spring of 1945 saw one of the fullest blooms in living memory, just before the beginning of the three-month conflict which would devastate the island.” Izaya turned around and smirked triumphantly.

 

Only, the four of them burst out laughing after Izaya was finished, causing him to flush, looking a bit annoyed.

 

“Oh my god, Otousan! You’re so petty!” Hana shrieked.

 

“You sound like a Wikipedia page!” Itsuki joined in, snickering while pointing at Izaya. Izaya huffed and continued walking forward. The tips of his ears bright red and Shizuo roared with laughter.

 

“More like a tour guide!” Haru added.

 

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Izaya hijacked a touring session. Verbally, that is. The rest of the family had a general aversion to tour groups, though Izaya liked it simply because there were usually many people to ‘quietly comment on’. Though the last time they went on one, Izaya kept pointing out errors in the tour guide’s explanations, leading the crowd to demand for a refund even though nobody had really been listening.

 

At the time, Hana had yet to be part of this strange and mildly dysfunctional unit of characters, and Haru and Itsuki were only six and two respectively. Though they could tell neither really liked the big crowds. They’d kept at a distance the entire time, because Itsuki would start acting up if they got too close, gripping Izaya’s fingers tightly, causing Izaya mild pain, which was a feat considering he was still just a toddler.

 

 _“_ It seems we’ve raised a pair of misanthropes.” Izaya sighed dramatically when Itsuki pulled him away again.

 

“Kind of ironic considering you, huh?” Shizuo smirked.

 

“T’was is life. Hahh, I feel as if I have somehow failed at my purpose in this world. Won’t you comfort me?” He teased and Shizuo merely rolled his eyes in response.

 

The laughter died down after a while, though Izaya was noticeably more reserved, in a cute way, Shizuo concluded. Shizuo had enjoyed the session of walking quietly around the island, with no one but his family. He watched as Haru picked up random rocks or dried out leaves from the ground; or when Hana wanted to take pictures beside weird-looking birds and fans of orange until they got shooed away by the flash of Izaya’s camera.

 

 

 

The last day itself was quite uneventful, as far as things went.

 

Shizuo was tasked with waking the kids up. Haru and Hana shuffled out of bed grumpily but Itsuki sat there, slouching and tired for a while.

 

“I want to sleep for longer.” He complained, rubbing his eyes.

 

“You can sleep in the taxi.”

“Nah,” He yawned, and refused to move until Izaya came back to chase him out.

 

They had finished packing up the area and were heading back to the airport. Everyone seemed to be slightly disgruntled, either due to the early timing, or the previous two day’s mixed events. Probably both.

 

“We’re going to Disney in America!” Shizuo tried, wanting to lighten the mood. Usually Izaya was the one who did this, and was undisputedly better at it too. But he had his limits as well. Shizuo never used to notice.

 

“I thought it was just castles and girly stuff,” Itsuki said, but he was perking up a little already.

 

“No, there's lots of other stuff too,” Shizuo said, confidence growing. He was familiar with the features of the place from Izaya’s constant mentions of them. “There's an aquarium, and, ah, a lagoon where you can paddle these little boats, and a lazy river.”

 

“What's a lagoon?” Itsuki was smiling like he already knew it would be great.

 

Shizuo knew he was being indulgent, and he could see on Izaya’s face that it wasn’t appreciated. He just wanted everyone to be happy but they couldn’t seem to manage it simultaneously. One of them was always ticked off at something or the other. It felt like a round of roulette and Shizuo had already shot himself in the head, yet he kept doing the same over and over again. It felt the same as back then, wherein only when one of them was in pain would the other be happy.

 

 

By the time they reached the airport terminal, the kids were as lively and energetic as usual, complaining amongst each other and begging for treats. This time Izaya picked out the items and everyone was satisfied.

 

“Why’s airport security so uptight?” Hana questioned while they were queueing, chewing on a bar of mint chocolate.

 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Izaya tsked, shooing them in the direction of the luggage retrieval when the security yelled at them for being too slow. “I don’t know everything.” In this case he actually did, but was too tired and annoyed to respond appropriately.

 

“Aren’t you always saying that you do?” She sneered back, crossing her arms with her smart-ass remark.

 

“Eh, it’s just because of terrorism and stuff. Not that interesting really.” Haru said, stretching her arms behind her head, feeling only a slight sting as she did so. She was not in the mood for them to get bitchy with each other. They had a similar temperament that didn’t always mix well.

 

They gathered their items – well, Shizuo gathered their items and they sat down in the waiting area. They still had around an hour of free time, unless the flight got delayed. Shizuo simply set down the luggages in front of them, ignoring the other people who stared at him in shock. He loured at them and they all turned away quickly, sweating nervously.

 

Shizuo rolled his eyes and settled himself next to Izaya, who had both his eyes shut and his arms and legs crossed. He wanted so much to bury his head inside the furry part of Izaya’s hoodie, something he did when he was especially frustrated at nothing in particular, usually when he was in public and didn’t really feel like going through all the trouble of destroying public infrastructure. But he didn’t want to be stared at in this already-hostile environment. The three little ones, having been reunited with their precious phones had plugged themselves into the cyberspace, doing their own things.

 

Shizuo really didn’t like this sort of silence. He got up and took a smoke break in one of the appointed rooms. He figures he's earned this cheat day.

 

Lucky for him, there was only one other person in here, some balding middle-aged salaryman with a shitty combover. He looked a bit stressed, weary, and Shizuo feels like he can relate. Neither of them bothered striking up conversation, there was an air of mutual ignorance between the two of them and he was glad for it.

 

Izaya comes in a while later, after Shizuo has started on his third stick, nose crinkling at the strong, pungent smell of nicotine. Izaya’s eyes briefly flickers to the salaryman, who looks unbothered.

 

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Shizuo asks, looking away.

 

“I think they’ll be okay,” Izaya says, shrugging. “Just like I’ve always thought you’d be okay. You’re very immune to whatever life throws at you, I’ve always thought. No matter what you seem to shrug off whatever anyone can dish out and carry on.”

 

“Yeah, I guess.”

 

Izaya rolls his eyes. “Oh god you’re always like this. Don’t be so critical of yourself, you had to deal with me, remember? I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned how much it irritated me that you were still able to float on by even after you got arrested for the hundredth time. You’re much better than you or I ever gave you credit for, and they are much the same.”

 

Izaya reached forward to squeeze his arm reassuringly.

 

“The way they act right now, sure, it’s upsetting, but it’s normal kid stuff.

 

Shizuo sighs through his nose, looking downcast.

 

"They’re all such a mystery to me all of a sudden. Haru’s birthday is in a month and I have no idea what to get her. She asked for cash. Jesus Christ, I'm not giving her cash."

 

"Why not? Kids love cash."

 

“Are you getting her cash?”

 

“Don’t be daft, of course not.” Shizuo runs his hands through his hair in frustration.

 

“Then why’d you tell me to?”

 

“I didn’t tell you to do anything I was merely pointing out that children love to receive some form of materialistic item.”

 

“Then what _are_ you getting her.”

 

“...”

 

“See?” Shizuo sighed, irritated, puffing smoke in Izaya’s face. A dick move on his part, Izaya batted it away, looking only slightly angry.

 

He was about to retort something when they heard the salaryman blanch.

 

“Fucking fags.” He muttered under his breath.

 

They both still.

 

But the man didn’t stop. It would be so much easier if he did. It wasn’t the first time they’ve heard this sort of language, and regardless, both of them were used to this sort of talk. People looked down on them individually and together, so what?

 

“You disgusting pieces of shit, destroying our society. And by the sounds of it you two have children too.” He shakes his head disapprovingly, condescendingly. “Disappointing. People like you should be rounded up and locked away from the rest of us.”

 

Shizuo pinched the bud between his fingers, grinding it so hard that it split in half.

 

_“You’ve ruined your children’s lives!”_

And Shizuo is beyond _pissed._ He has not felt this way in a long, _long_ , _long_ time, but he’s fucking seeing red and nothing is stopping him from –

 

Izaya beats him to the punch. Well, in the sense that he has the sharp edge of his old, trusty switchblade against the pudgy man’s neck. Its silver glint shining as brightly as ever, looking clean and well-polished.

 

“Y-y-you fucking whore, twisted shits, freaks – “ He stutters, less confident when threatened. What a joke.

 

“I suggest you keep calm right now, Mr. Salaryman, for both of our sakes here.”

 

“Well, I can see we both have conflicting points of interest, you see, I too, know what it’s like to be caught up in the business side of things.

 

Rumours, bribery, blackmail. They’re all my fortes. Oh, but I’m sure a self-respecting and honest man such as yourself has nothing to hide, isn’t that right?” Izaya mockingly brushes off some dust from his suit, and straightens the man’s collar, all the while his blade is kept firmly against the man’s neck.

 

Izaya, Shizuo notices, has terrifyingly still hands.

 

“Ah, so you work at Sumitomo, don’t you? It certainly would be a shame if someone were to look up the company name, only to find all of its dirty little secrets.

 

Then what happens next, I wonder? If someone decides business just isn’t the same, and the higher-ups will have to lay off a few people. It’s a tough world out there, with even tougher competition. You wouldn’t want to end up a jobless old man, with no means to support your family, would you? How would you face them?”

 

“So I suggest you just mosey your way on out of here, with no recollection of anything that has transpired.”

 

Both of them are panting as the man staggers out, nearly tripping over his feet as he does. He dares to cast a terrified glance back at them before he scrambles away, frightened and likely more disgusted than ever. But who gives a shit.

 

“Fuck.” Shizuo grunted.

 

“Agreed.”

 

When they came back, Itsuki could immediately pick up that something was different. Tense. He went up to hug Izaya’s legs, it was sweet but only drew more people’s attention to them, which Shizuo really did not want now. Izaya lifted him up and returned to the seat.

 

The ride to back to Narita was tense and uncomfortable, Itsuki and Hana complaining about who got to sit next to Izaya, though that was merely a cover-up for the fear they were feeling. Their parents had been deathly silent since they returned from the smoke room.

 

Haru was swinging her feet in front of her. Which was allowed since she had so much space. They were flying business class back, a decision to which no one objected to. Hana and Suki were filled with a newfound enthusiasm at the extra legroom and general upgrade in quality. Though she seemed to just notice that her Otousan and Otouchan were in a tense silence.

 

“What’s wrong?”

She always had been straightforward. Hana and Itsuki stopped arguing then, peering at her and Shizuo nervously, but curious too.

 

“Nothing.”

 

And Shizuo feels like shit for lying.

 

_“You’ve ruined their lives.”_

 

He crushes his face against Izaya’s shoulder and falls asleep.

 

_Has he?_

 

He thinks about how each had their own brand of strength. And they dealt so much better with the extra one they were provided with than Shizuo ever could. In the beginning, Shizuo was terrified of the idea of his kids being isolated from others for the very same reason he was: Being a monster. Something to fear, to be hated. It’d take up countless hours in the middle of the night, when even Izaya had fallen asleep, the burdens of fatherhood and its implications having to fall onto the shoulders of his child. The possibility that they would end up just as broken as he had once been, those thoughts would be the ones to make him cry just loud enough for only Izaya to wake up to. Every time, Izaya would reach out to him in the dark and bury Shizuo’s head in his chest. He would always listen, and offer short and clipped words of comfort if need be, but Shizuo was never happier to have someone as collected as Izaya by his side. Years ago, he never would have though Izaya could be comforting and would have punched anyone who could think of something as unlikely and terrible as that. But now, he wished he could tell the younger version of himself that no, this was exactly what he has looking for his entire life, hidden behind the sharp edge of a blade and ringing laughter, was that cooling warmth that could finally relieve him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Shinjuku is technically more dangerous than Ikebukuro in the show, but the author has chosen to change that because she’s a dumbass. Doing research for everything has made me personally feel like I should contribute to my own in-verse swear jar.


	3. Columbine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Such is the melancholy of life.
> 
>  
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating changed to E due to NSFW. Be warned for sex and emotions that author does not know how to combine together, featuring Shizuo and Izaya’s horrible sex life. How nauseatingly heartwarming, it makes me sick. 
> 
> This is, yeah. It is loooong, it seems that every chapter I write gets longer than the previous one, so, take solace that this is the last. Also, I’ve been spending a lot of my time watching Dear Girl Stories (DGS for short), which, in case you don’t know, is a radio show thing that Shizuo (Ono Daisuke) and Izaya’s (Kamiya Hiroshi) voice actors host. It’s super adorable and a great way to pass the time and it gives me sooo many shipping ideas you have no idea. There's quite a fair bit of translations on YouTube, if anyone is interested.
> 
> A Happy Birthday to the Orihara Twins is in order. Here's to ancient grudges not breaking to new mutiny.

He believes that they are at a position right now where they could confidently say that neither of them would ever regret their children, though Izaya himself often got scared of that _very real_ possibility.

 

Not that he wouldn’t have regrets in general, or that they would not have regrets growing up. It was a human part of life, after all. Well, he rather thought that _life_ itself was intrinsically entangled with humans, but that was a discussion for another day.

 

Izaya was scared of something else, something worse.

 

He got scared in the way only a child who had been neglected by family got, as if they too could fall into those trappings of forgetting themselves and losing interest. (Not like he was _extremely_ neglected, he had most things that he wanted growing up, he was aware of that. He held no real resentment for his parents, just apathy.) The fear of everyday growing more tired and resentful towards something one was supposed to love unconditionally. After all, if he could let go of his unconditional love for humans, something he once thought to be indisputably impossible, could he not do the same with his own flesh and blood? Izaya is no fool, he was not blind to who he was before, and who he is now.

 

It was a reason why he had been, more than hesitant at first. When hopeless, romantic, foolish Shizu-chan breached the topic of _children_. Such a word was so foreign to Izaya, so dangerous. Izaya had anticipated it at some point, that if he were to have a long-term relationship with a man as fond of innocence as Shizuo was, the subject of reproduction was bound to pop up. It was in their evolutionary genetics after all, and what man had ever gone against the forces of nature and won? Izaya had tried, and had subsequently failed miserably. He had, however, rehearsed the same few lines long ago, in preparation for the inevitable.

 

 

_“Really? Us?” Izaya looked up sceptically and proceeded to laugh out loud._

_What a joke! What a fool Shizuo was. But more’s the pity to the fool._

_“Putting aside all the legal troubles this would cause, we are quite literally the_ worst _people for the job. If you want proof go, ask my sisters.” He rested his head on his hands. “They’ll spill you every juicy detail.”_

_Social experiments, psychological damage, neglect._

_“I did.”_

_Izaya slammed his hands down on his desk. Too harshly to be played off as calm and unaffected. “You truly are out of your mind, Heiwajima Shizuo. Are you not aware of the fact that if you make the slightest mishap we could very much have a mangled baby in our hands?”_

_“Listen, Izaya. I’m tired.” Izaya’s breath hitched. “I’m tired of running away from myself. Of being too much of a coward that I can’t bear to face myself every day.” Shizuo paused, shuffling his hands into his pockets._

_“I don’t want to pressure you into this, I just wanted to bring it up. Please, consider it.”_

_“What is there to ‘consider’? I’ve made my choice and you’re clearly refusing to acknowledge it.”_

_“I’ll give you some space.”_

 

_And he walked out of the apartment, leaving Izaya fuming._

 

Honestly what did he expect? A fairy-tale? The American Dream of living with a trophy wife in a house with a white picket fence, a dog and two-point-five children? Well, unfortunately for Shizuo, Izaya was by no means female, rather favoured modern, _black_ interior design and _hated_ dogs _._

The reason why they called it a dream was because you had to be asleep to have it, after all.

 

 

_“…I’ve been practicing you know.”_

_“Practicing what?”_

_“Not breaking stuff, not losing my temper. Simple things like that. Tom-san said it would help.”_

_Izaya scoffed. “What? And you think that’s enough? Did Tom also teach you to challenge yourself to sit through five minutes of the boring old news in preparation for your hypothetical parenthood?”_

_“’Our’, and no, but I want to keep trying. Izaya, why are you so afraid?”_  
  


_“Why are you so unafraid about this!” He hissed, gradually losing control over himself. “Do you think that this is supposed to be some easy job? Some side-project that you can do whatever you want with? Because if you do, then Heiwajima Shizuo, you are more insane and simply more_ selfish _than I ever thought.” Izaya feels his heart twist and churn at the thought. Sure, he has admitted to himself that Shizuo was human – oh, so human, so why did that upset him so much? Humans by their very nature were selfish, but perhaps a part of him had not believed that Shizuo could fall into certain trappings._

_His throat felt dry. “I rather think myself above the concept of good and evil. Rather, humans are simply charming or tedious. But babies tend to fall into the latter category.” He says, clenching his fists to prevent his fingers from being seen – they weren’t trembling, no. “But, if there were to be a clear definition of good and bad, I would most certainly fall into the latter category.”_

_“Maybe, but – I’ve seen you, you can be ‘good’.”_

_“Well then, some humans just make good people, not good parents.”_

_“I’m never going to know what to do,” He choked out before Shizuo could answer. “That’ll be my final nail in the coffin, maybe.” He chuckled, the sound coming out from his mouth sounded a bit different from his intention._

_“When it comes to raising kids, or even being near them – god, they’re disgusting.” He hissed, venom dripping from his tongue, but his supply was running dry these days. “I don’t have any experience. Positive ones, at least.”_

_“Nobody has experience with kids until they do,” Shizuo said, gently, like Izaya was some haggard wife, which was_ not _appreciated. “And they’ll be our kids.”_

_“They’ll be the most monstrous of all.”_

 

Izaya snapped out of his dream, or rather, memory, when the plane intercom alerted their landing. His arm felt sore from using it as a prop for his head, as well as being a substitute pillow for Shizuo to rest on.

 

He shook him awake and got a cup of water from one of the flight attendants – noticeably, the same one who had been sending him and Shizuo strange looks that Izaya did not appreciate. He set the cup down firmly, which sent her scurrying away.

 

He knew while on this trip they were bound to be in the presence of rather…more unsavoury human beings. Izaya had thought he was prepared for that, but the things that dead-beat salaryman said was a bit too much. Luckily, he was able to spot the business card in his shirt pocket, recognising the company as a relatively corrupt one (well, no company was really free from corruption, hence why Izaya could do his job so well) that he was sure he could dig up dirt on. And that man would have to pay, for Orihara Izaya never forgot the face of someone who had scorned him.

 

Gathering their items, they made their way to the next terminal, where they would be boarding the flight to Texas first, then switching planes to Florida. In all honesty, Izaya would have preferred New York but he doubts that the rest of them would appreciate it as much, seeing as they took after Shizu-chan in being more childish in their tastes.

 

 

The five of them were half-asleep during the check-in process and breakfast. That was, until Izaya pointed out those ‘big scanny machines’ that are part of the ‘uptight airport security’ he had been too immature to answer earlier.

 

“They were implemented after the 2001 terror attack in the United States.” He proceeded to explain in further detail about the whole controversies those devices were involved in.

 

The more he talked, the more awake they got, firing questions left and right, oddly excited to experience it. Not wanting to be left out, Shizuo joined in with the only bit of knowledge he had overheard forever-ago from his dad about it. Thinking about it, it has been a while since they visited.

 

“Some people think they’re an invasion of privacy.”

 

“Why?”

 

Shizuo looked to Izaya for an answer but saw him shaking his head. Maybe another time, then. Maybe this topic would come up the next time they went to visit Shizuo’s parents. His father had always kept up-to-date on current events, especially one that had been as shocking as that. Shizuo misses his parents.

 

“I don’t know, but we’re going to be late at this rate. If you don’t want to finish the rest of your food you can give them to me.”

 

They made it to their gate with fifteen minutes to spare, and Izaya whipped out his phone to look through the news while Shizuo followed Itsuki to stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the other planes taking off.

 

 

The American plane they boarded had four seats in a row, with a pretty big aisle situated between two seats. Unfortunately, one of their tickets had to be situated away from the rest. Haru had begged to be seated in her own row, and Shizuo only allowed it because the girl sitting beside her seemed to be roughly the same age as her and the mother seemed nice. She wasn’t in a business suit, at least. (to which Izaya said it was ironic since they were in Business Class, and Shizuo kissed him to shut him up) It was probably for the best, since Shizuo would have crushed his armrest if he saw anything related to Businesses for a while. The rest of them sat one row in front of her, him taking the aisle seat with Izaya seated behind him whilst across for them was the very dangerous combination of Hana and Itsuki. Though now, Itsuki was focused on craning his neck to look out as the plane began to rise with a newfound excitement in his eyes. He liked the sea of clouds below him, and Shizuo hopes he will continue to.

 

After a while, Izaya noticed that the girl beside Haru had tried to strike up a conversation, but it faded into awkwardness after the first few questions. Haru was lively, but also more socially awkward and tended to be considered abnormal – they received a few comments from teachers calling her a ‘deviation from the norm’. Izaya wondered if she was being ostracised at school, for kids were cruel. She was always prone to being alone, but then again, so was he.

 

The kids, and surprisingly, Izaya fell asleep within the first three hours of the flight. Shizuo was holding Izaya’s hand while he continued to keep an eye on Haru. He’d heard that Americans were more open about physical affection so it probably would not be a problem if he was just holding Izaya’s hand – right. Haru was staring intently at the movie played out in front of her. He hoped it wasn’t violent. He really wasn’t that tired, the playthrough of their earlier trip still fresh in his mind. He can’t exactly place what he felt throughout the whole thing. There was happiness, fucking _relief_ , annoyance, but…there was also something else. Rage, an anger that had built up inside him from all the worry and all the stress. He was terrified of what that meant. Deciding not to think about it too much, he put on the earphones from the plane. All the movies featured in the catalogue were American, but luckily it had Japanese subtitles. Shizuo spent a while aimlessly flicking through their selection until one caught his eye so he decided to roll with it. Considering its innocuous name, Shizuo was thinking that it was some kind of cute, rom-com – a guilty pleasure of his but he just wanted a light-hearted movie.

 

He soon found that it was, in fact, not. He really should start reading those movie description tags but how was he supposed to know that a movie called _Mom & Dad _would be…this? It was deeper than he had expected it to be – to him, at least. He spent the remaining hour and a half transfixed as to what was happening on screen, simultaneously horrified and enraptured by its contents. He squeezed Izaya’s hand tighter and Izaya’s face scrunched up in his sleep.

 

And, really, the movie wasn’t that great. Actually, it was pretty dumb, some virus going around causing parents to fight want to kill their children with over-the-top acting, whatever. What Shizuo hated was that he could relate to the ugly-looking American father, yelling and absolutely wrecking his neat pool table – and he had worked so hard to put it together, too. It was clear that the man was absolutely consumed by a single-minded anger, and he was directing it all back towards his family, even if it was unintentional. Shizuo flinched when he slammed into the wall and fell while chasing his kids, who were running away in fear. He hastily turned off the movie without finishing.

 

When he looked around him, he had not even realised that the plane had dimmed its lights already. Haru had fallen asleep halfway through the movie she was watching earlier. Shizuo tried, but failed to do the same, thoughts of murderous, violent fathers filling his mind.

 

By the time everyone else woke up, he felt like buying a pool table just so he could wreck it to pieces.

 

The drink cart made another round after lunch, the stewardesses attending to passengers being courteous and obliging in every manner. Shizuo felt like getting something alcoholic, but decided against it. The American stewardess made a big show of pouring out his milk, though, batting her eyelashes and trying to strike up conversation with him. Shizuo felt very uncomfortable since Izaya had fallen asleep next to him again, their clasped hands obscured by the blanket. He wasn’t used to flirting (besides with the man beside him – could it even be called flirting back then? Whatever, he had the wedding rings to prove it.) She was incessant, though, and after she learnt that he was Japanese and badgered his name out of him, she made the situation more distressing by calling him Shizuo- _sama_ , which made Shizuo cringe the first time he heard it. What was with people and adding the _worst_ suffixes to the end of his name?

 

 _“So, are ya headin’ off to Florida for anyone special, Shizuo-samah?”_ She asked coyly, looking briefly over Izaya. She had a distinct accent that would be indicative of what part of the States she came from.

 

Shizuo had a limited understanding of English, though, and he was embarrassed to admit that even Suki was more well-spoken in that area than he was. He could vaguely make out the words ‘ _going to’_ and ‘ _anyone special’_. He assumed she meant of he was going to Florida for a special occasion.

 

“Holiday. Family.” He said, pointing across the aisle and at Haru behind him.

 

“Oh.” Her eyes widened for a moment and she smiled in a patronising manner while handing him his drink. “How cute, have fun!” And she moved on, leaving Shizuo feeling self-conscious. He didn’t have a problem with what other people thought of him, but the whole uneasiness of their previous exchange left him reeling. And it was not like it was illegal in America, according to Izaya, they were more open about it! What was her problem? Shizuo spent the rest of the plane ride sulking and glaring at any stewardess who came too close, even after Hana told him to knock it off so she could get a drink.

 

As soon as they had landed in Dallas, Itsuki wanted to be carried, still feeling tired. He wasn’t even complaining when Shizuo picked him up.

 

“You are getting too old for this.” Izaya nagged, though he helped pull along Suki’s luggage, ignoring the occasional stares from people. Shizuo thinks that Izaya relishes in a bit of the attention, sometimes.

 

They explored the new airport for a bit more before they were back on a new plane. The Economic Class in this plane allowed for all of them to sit in a row as a family, albeit, a bit cramped. Shizuo sat between Haru and Hana this time, the latter sitting in the aisle seat. Izaya was across the aisle, with Itsuki by his side. Shizuo gave him a few longing looks which Izaya caught, and returned them with kissy faces and a wink. Itsuki gagged loudly at the sight. The seat next to them was empty, so Izaya used it to place his carrier and then proceeded to retrieve his laptop and leaned over it while Itsuki slept some more with his head on Izaya’s thigh.

 

“Who’s still hungry?” Izaya asked out of curtesy once they landed in Orlando International, though they had quite a heavy meal on the plane, the food portions being quite big.

 

“Not me.” Hana said, Haru nodded in agreement.

 

“ _I’m_ hungry.” Itsuki grinned impishly, which always meant that he was lying. Regardless, Shizuo gave him some Cheesecake Factory biscuits from before, to which he accepted but did not eat a single one of them. Afterwards ensued one of the loudest family wide shouting match in the taxi as they decided where it was they should go next, because frankly Shizuo felt exhausted from not getting enough sleep but Haru and Hana wanted to look at the tourist attractions. They were stuck at the side of the road, with a very nervous, sweating taxi driver not knowing where to go.

 

The stalemate was broken with Izaya, who opted to visit the home rental first to get a look around the area – and also because all the shouting was giving him a migraine. The girls sulked moodily the rest of the way there until they pulled up in front of the house.

 

It was a single level settlement, and possessed a mix of American Craftsman and Italianate style architecture to it, adding a lot to its character. Best of all, it looked tidy. The clear sliding doors leading out to a grassy patch and the distant view of the beach and sea, which was quite empty at this time of the day. It certainly gave the settlement a fresh feel. Shizuo feels all forty-four years of his age when he thinks of how he described the house as ‘fresh’.

 

They were greeted warmly at the drive in, and once they got all their baggage the taxi all but booked it out of the neighbourhood. Shizuo can’t even blame him.

 

“Hello! Welcome to our humble abode!” It was clear that this was their first time speaking Japanese, but Shizuo feels honoured that they would try, nonetheless.

 

As they made their way inside, Izaya took note of the décor. The home itself was open-plan, and had a very lived-in vibe to it, scattered papers and magazines hastily piled onto the coffee table to appear neat. The house made use of a lot of natural lighting, it seems, which wasn’t unwelcome.

 

Since it had an open-plan layout, the kitchen area connected to the living room. There was a big space leading to the west side of the house, where there was a queen-sized bed, which had a lot of light blue stripes reminiscent of sailor aesthetics. Beside it was a closet, which when opened revealed a smaller bed. The kids were amazed by this and played around with it for a bit before they were called for dinner.

 

Dinner was a feast of home-cooked meals. Sausage stuffed zucchinis for appetizers. That was a first, but it didn’t taste bad, just different. There was a pot roast (well, Izaya has always liked hot pot, this is close enough) and Caprese Chicken for the main course, and a wonderfully aromatic Apple Pie for desert. The whole thing left Shizuo feeling quite bloated, but it was delicious.

 

“ _I’m surprised you guys do not have salads.”_ Haru practices in pretty decent English.

 

“ _Oh, everyone’s had a bleeding Caesar salad before! You’re in America, right? Try something new!”_

 

Weird mix, Shizuo thought.

 

They inform them that they’re leaving afterwards to visit their kids in the next town over, and will likely arrive by morning the next day.

 

_“So we’ll be leaving our house in your care, please feel at home.”_

Shizuo doesn’t know how they can put so much trust in a bunch of strangers, but he appreciates it – the house was lovely, but tiny too, and Shizuo liked privacy.

 

Generally, they’re nice about the whole family, just a bit social. He supposes it’s just a culture shock. Izaya acted as their main communicator between them. The kids were shy around new people, but they warmed up to them quickly.

 

“Oh, oh, actually, Harold here has visited Japan before. He was part of the troops, during the Second World War, he was there for the surrender.” Giorgia, recalls.

 

Shizuo’s a bit confused by the direction of conversation, and by the looks of it so are the girls. Itsuki, though, speaks up.

 

“In Japan we actually call it the Greater East Asia War.” He says, and Izaya translates.

 

_“Mm, so don’t mind if the rest of them are a bit confused. Actually, our schools like to hide a lot of facts about World War Two, to cast Japan in a more sympathetic light.”_

 

 _“Ah, propaganda eh. Well, the States are no foreigner to this, quite the opposite, actually. We’re fighting wars all over the place!”_ Harold says in his booming voice, hand in chin.

 

 _“Ha! I bet you do!”_ Izaya says in English.

 

This atmosphere carries on for the rest of the night, everyone chipping in and adding some weird fact or another. As they’re waving goodbye, Shizuo turns around to look at the place again.

 

“This place is amazing.” Shizuo says, awed.

 

“’Amazing’ is perhaps too strong a word but it is nice. It has a musky old people smell though.” Izaya nit-picks.

 

“We are old people.” Shizuo likes the smell, it makes him wonder if maybe their house would have that sort of smell too, sometime down the line. He doubts it though – Izaya has always had a unique smell that extended to the rest of their environment.

 

Back indoors, Haru has already arranged herself on the bed, preparing to sleep. She has her earphones on to shut out the rest of the world with whatever alternative rock she’s into this week while Hana’s sitting right in front of the open sliding doors, watching the scenic view as the breeze sweeps in.

 

After they’ve showered and brushed their teeth, they collapse onto bed too. Itsuki squeezes in between them as usual, turning towards Izaya in his sleep, who is still awake on his phone. Shizuo stares at them for a while, until he feels a light tug on his hand over the edge of the bed. He rolls around to find Hana grabbing his hand in her sleep. He swells a bit inside.

 

He falls asleep thinking that these are such stuff his dreams are made of.

 

 

Shizuo woke up in the middle of the night when he felt Izaya get out of the bed, but he laid there until he heard Haru clambering out, her departure was followed with a toilet flush that made Itsuki groan and turn in his sleep. Shizuo heard them whispering in the kitchen, fully awake. He sat up gently, detaching Hana’s arm from his side, simultaneously alarmed and comforted by how tightly she clung. He saw from the glass sliding doors that it was a mix between dark and pale blue outside. Very early, a muted peacefulness. He slid out of bed and went to the bathroom to wash up and brush his teeth.

 

Once he was done, he pulled Itsuki’s covers back and he whined, drilling his little fists into his eyes.

 

It took a bit more coaxing to get him out, and by then Hana was awake too, standing in front of the toilet vanity. As soon as she caught sight of Shizuo, she ripped a clip with a red plastic bow on it out of her hair. She went bright red as she turned towards him, as if he’d caught her smoking – Shizuo shudders at the thought. She donned a simply but cute sleeveless blue dress that was a little short. Shizuo walked over and kissed the top of her head.

 

“Sorry, I should have knocked. Ready to go?”

 

“Yeah, yeah – you don’t need to do that!” Shizuo liked being affectionate with his kids, but apparently that was something that was looked down upon back in Japan, and it often made them all embarrassed. Didn’t really stop him though.

 

Shizuo reached for her day bag and she rushed over to stop him.

 

“I can carry that myself!” She huffed, straightening her posture before walking away.

 

“I know, sorry.” Shizuo said, disheartened.

 

…

 

After they lathered the kids with sunscreen and extra towels and drinks, they headed out just as the elderly duo arrived, and bid goodbye to them. Shizuo feels a tightening in his chest, they reminded him of his grandparents, who had passed away years ago. They loaded the rest of their stuff into the rented car – thank god for that, he feels like none of them wanted to traumatise any more taxi drivers – they were in smelled of musk and a strange perfume. Izaya definitely had the impression that someone had sex here before. He sprayed it down before anyone went in, he’s always been a weird neat freak. As they drove by, the early hours cast a soft glow through the sleepy neighbourhood, which looked so unglamorous and normal that Izaya decided it was not. There was something he could not quite name, something quite charming. Their general shabbiness and uniformity unlike that of the high-rise apartments of Tokyo, though perhaps their owners were out and about, and their reason for unkemptness was joyful rather than the lack of time.

 

They arrived at the beach early, so they managed to find a spot before it got too crowded during the midday. At least in the crowd, it was easier for a group of people to blend in, so they didn’t draw much attention.

 

At some point, Haru and Hana had gone off to build, and he quotes, ‘the biggest sandcastle ever’ or something like that while Itsuki waddled a bit in the waters.

 

Shizuo made some laps around the short while Izaya was watching over the kids. He had passed the same set of rocks around five or six times when he felt a mild, throbbing tweak in his shoulder. By the time he stumbled his way back onto the sand, he knew it was his old crane injury.

 

The one time they had fully committed to killing each other a few years ago, Shizuo had a large crane dropped onto him while shielding Varona. His shoulder hadn’t quite been the same since, and he occasionally had to pop it back into its socket even though Shinra told him not to, which was probably why he could still aggravate it despite being an abnormally fast healer. Shizuo would always catch Izaya wincing when he did it unthinkingly in front of him, a permanent reminder of what they both tried to do. Then again, Izaya still had trouble walking, despite how much he tried it brush it off as old age (the only time he would admit to ageing). Usually it only throbbed mildly, when he was doing something as simple as reaching up for a box of cereal, or lifting one of his kids, or completely supporting Izaya up against a wall during sex.

 

Izaya noticed his struggling and immediately knew that he had activated an old wound. Itsuki trailed behind nervously as Izaya rushed over to support him back onto the mat.

 

“Otouchan…?” Itsuki said. He was gripping the soaked ends of his hair tightly.

 

“I pulled a muscle, I think.” Shizuo said.

 

“You managed to hurt yourself already?” Izaya asked, incredulous.

 

“It’s not like I can help it.” He grumbled, not prepared for a nagging. “It’s an old injury,” he said. “From – you know.”

 

“Do you need to get help?” Izaya sighed.

 

“No,” Shizuo said though he felt like he had a knife lodged between his shoulder blade. “I’m okay, I’ll just lie down.”

 

“Are you sure?” Itsuki asked, worried. He was generally less prone to being a worry rat than his sisters but when he did worry he did it tenfold, and was often a bit overbearing. Shizuo put his hand on Itsuki’s head.

 

“Yeah, I just pulled something while you were playing. What were you doing just now anyway? Was it fun?”

 

Once he made sure there wasn’t any apparent threat, Itsuki jumped straight back into his laid-back attitude, trying to appear unexcited whilst bragging about how fast he swam. After a while, Izaya distracted him by asking him to check up on the sandcastle Haru and Hana were building, which by now reached around half the height of the umbrella stands and was gathering a bit of a crowd. Itsuki immediately obliged.

 

“How bad is it?” Izaya asked, dropping all cheer once Itsuki was away. He began touching Shizuo’s shoulder looking for any sore spots.

 

“S’not too bad. Just hurts like a fucking bitch and all.”  
  
Izaya sighs exasperatedly, too irked to complain about ‘language’. “Of course you had to pull _that_ old injury. I am quite sure that Shinra and I have told you multiple times not to pop your own arm back into place, now look at it. I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again.”

 

“Sorry?” Shizuo tried, a smile tempted to break across his lips. Izaya was flustered when he was worried, and Shizuo found a while ago that he liked being worried after, despite injuries not having much of an impact on him.

 

“I’m starting to think you’re more manipulative than me.” He commented.

 

“Oh fuck off.”

 

Izaya’s skin had turned a light shade of pink from being out on the beach for too long, being as it was already an hour past noon so the sunscreen would have probably worn off, and Izaya had always been pale. He was hissing every time he moved, though it wasn’t too bad. He was just very dramatic, and basked in all the worry Shizuo could not help but feel. Eventually, Izaya went back to the car to wait, Hana tagging along when she overheard that people peed in the ocean, looking very grossed out. Haru was talking to some boy that looked her age, using grand hand gestures to make up for her lack of English. Shizuo narrowed his eyes at the scene, but it didn’t look harmful.

 

“Am I from both of you?” Itsuki suddenly blurted from his side.

 

“What?” Shizuo turned away from Haru, who had already been invited to join a small group of teens for some beach volleyball.

 

“You and Otousan? Was I conceived from both of you? And Haru from Oba-sans?”

 

“Who told you that?” Shizuo asked, distressed.

 

“Hana.” Itsuki said, he was staring at the sand he picked up, and watched them slowly fall from between his tiny fingers.

 

“Oh.” Shizuo glanced at the direction of their car, nervous. “Well, um, yeah. I mean, biologically – yes – but you’re all ours. Equally. We love you all the same.”

 

“I don’t care.” Itsuki said, and Shizuo believed that he did not – about the, genetics and stuff, but his palms were sweaty and he was feeling disturbed, because Hana certainly did. He’d always hoped that she wouldn’t let something like that bother her, but he knew he was being stupid and wishful.

 

“She’ll get over it,” Izaya said when he brought this up when they checked into the Resort, which was very blaringly Disney-themed. He didn’t know why he was surprised, they _were_ at Disney World Resort. “She’s terribly resistant to these sorts of petty things.”

 

“Yeah but I’m not.” Shizuo said. “And I don’t think it’s petty.”

 

“It’s not.” Izaya agrees. “But she thinks too much for her own good sometimes. Unlike the other two who seem content living in their own world.”

 

“Are you talking about us?” Itsuki shouted, his voice coming from their bedroom where he was changing.

 

“Stop eavesdropping!” Izaya said, and closed the door to the bathroom. He turned on the faucet for good measure and squeezed Shizuo’s arm reassuringly, tiptoeing up to give him a kiss which Shizuo gladly leaned into.

 

“It’s normal for adopted kids to go through something like this, we just have to show that it doesn’t make a difference to us. Which it doesn’t.”

 

“I just thought she wouldn’t feel this way. It makes me sad.”

 

“A lot of things they feel are going to make you sad,” Izaya said. “That’s just the way it works.” And he turned off the faucet and chased Itsuki to the other room. They got joint rooms, separated only by a thin door.

 

“So where did Kasuka-Ojisan come from?” Hana asked suspiciously from beside Shizuo. They had ordered room service, being too tired to follow through with their itinerary.

 

“Uh, what do you mean? He’s my brother, we’ve told you this before.”

 

“Yeah - but! He looks so young. And he looks like both of you too, sometimes, it’s scary!” Oh, it was scary alright. Shizuo didn’t really know what to say to the fact that she was trying to convince him that his brother was either adopted or his and Izaya’s love child - this was so weird, he was sure she was just projecting.

 

“It’s just all so complicated,” Hana said, livid and pained. “Even Haru-nee, at least she came from Mairu and Kururi - and you! She’s still strong.”

 

“Wait, wait, is that what this is about? Hana - “

 

“No!” She had risen from where she sat, a small depression in the pillow was all that was left to indicate her presence.

 

“It’s just, Suki and Ha-chi, they’re so obviously…yours. And Otousan’s. It’s unfair.”

 

Shizuo reached out for her again, placing a hand on her shoulder. This time, she let him. He eventually wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in for a hug that felt long overdue. “It might seem unfair, yeah, but we love you so much, you’re just as important to all of us. It doesn’t matter, okay?” She stiffened under his touch when he said this, and suddenly he wasn’t so sure what he did was the right approach. He really needed to talk about this with Izaya.

 

“It matters to me.”

 

“Why, sweetie?”

 

“It just does.” She mumbled, and slipped out from his grasp. She walked outside, to where Izaya sat on the porch, and sat beside him. They were murmuring about some things or the other, and Shizuo couldn’t help but take it personally when she leaned into Izaya’s hug. Izaya was the one who found her, first. He had all the details and Shizuo followed, because he couldn’t stand the idea of a child being hurt, trapped and pained. The fact had never bothered him before, but now it seemed awfully unfair. Everything did.

 

Shizuo was always fearful about his children inheriting his strength though, he never expected he had to be concerned for the opposite. Hana was too self-conscious of the fact that she was physically weaker than the rest of the family, and slightly more so than the average thirteen-year-old. She felt singled out from the family, in her eyes. Izaya always suspected it stemmed from the fact that she was adopted. They told her early, because it was the best choice. Izaya was always amused that humans preferred to keep this sort of information until a child was older, when it was more damaging to them. Besides, Hana was an observant child and not stupid, she would have been able to put two and two together at some point. However, no matter how much he and Shizuo tried to comfort her about it, tell her all the stories of Shizuo’s hospital visits and struggles, she viewed it as too much of a weakness. Shizuo got depressed about that fact a lot, blaming himself for her placing as much emphasis on it as she did.

 

Shizuo didn’t think he was prepared for that. He kissed Hana’s forehead before bed, surprised but glad that she let him, tucking her in tighter than usual. She used to like it when the blankets were tightly wound around her shoulders, saying it felt safer, like being wrapped in strong arms.

 

 

“They’re asleep.” Shizuo reported as he shut the door softly. He was about to turn around until he felt a pair of bony arms wrap around his waist, Izaya’s chest pressing into his lower back.

 

“I know, what should we do now, I wonder?” When Shizuo looked over his shoulder, Izaya was sporting a coquettish grin.

 

Shizuo wasn’t good with words, so he picked Izaya up and placed him on the counter, Izaya’s back facing the open glass door that leads to the balcony, overlooking the rest of the resort and city area. There were lovely purple flowers there, that looked a bit like those small garden windmills he saw on the drive here in some people’s homes. Tokyo was too dense to really have flowers. It reminds him of the last time at Shinra’s place, right before this whole getaway, but the view here is much more stunning. He still thinks it’s pretty ridiculous for their suite to be so big it had a mini bar, but, as he kisses up Izaya’s arm, he’s finding it to be very useful right now.

 

“Ah, ah” Izaya tutted, blocking Shizuo’s kiss with his hands. He picked up a bottle of some kind of alcohol – the label was in French. “Let’s pretend we have something worth celebrating for a bit first, shall we?”

 

“Yeah.” Shizuo says, he wants to see if his bartending skills have gotten any better. Likely, they’ve gotten worse.

 

He checked the fridge and whistled.

 

“Wow, they really go all out, huh?” He said, shuffling the items around to look for some vermouth and lemons. He started preparing his mixture then, slow but with some level of skill. “Who needs all this shit for just two nights?”

 

“Maybe they were banking on people getting so drunk they use everything in the fridge. It’s not a bad tactic.” Izaya mused.

 

“Why?”

 

Izaya stared at him blankly. “Shizu-chan, you really didn’t think those were free, right?”

 

He looked up, flushing. “You mean they’re not?”

 

And Izaya laughs out loud until Shizuo shushes him by pointing to the door.

 

Shizuo tries to be impressive, shifting the shaker around and even managing to spin it in the air twice. He finished the martini by plopping a cherry and adding a twist of lemon into it. He liked the cherries more than the olives. Izaya whistled when he took a sip.

 

“You made this so strong, what’s the ratio?”

 

“Three to one, it’s not that bad.”

 

“Maybe for you!” Izaya swirled the glass towards him, giving Shizuo a sultry look before sipping it again, he shrinks a bit from the taste. “Are you trying to get me tipsy so you can ravage me later?”

 

“Yep. You saw right through my plan.” Shizuo deadpanned, putting away the shaker.

 

Izaya pouts, then his eyes light. He pulls Shizuo by the collar to face him, and smashes their lips together, mouth full of the drink. Shizuo is taken aback for a bit, but brings one hands up to rub circles into Izaya’s waist, the other reaching down to fondle his bottom while he plunges his tongue deeper to get more of the sweet drink. He doesn’t think he did that bad a job.

 

They keep this cycle going, only breaking apart for one of them to take a mouthful of the intoxicating drink before repeating their mix of tongue and saliva. Izaya has his hands wound tight around Shizuo’s neck, his feet digging hard into his back. They’re both deep red and completely wasted by now, and Shizuo is kissing roughly at the expanse of Izaya’s neck, lips making loud and weirdly arousing _smack_ sounds.

 

Shizuo often got more affectionate when he was drunk. He’s just trying to be cuddly, Izaya preferred to use the term ‘possessive’, always somehow managing to drag Izaya into his lap, no matter the place, and glaring at anyone that so much as looked in their direction.

 

“Hey, Izaya?” Shizuo asks gruffly, he looks down at his work on Izaya’s neck. It was full of bright red marks, and Shizuo feels proud. Izaya would complain about having to cover up tomorrow, but that could wait.

 

Izaya was panting heavily, trying to tug down harder on Shizuo’s neck even in his wanton state, craving more. “What? Why did you stop? Don’t be a tease now.” He mewled.

 

“What’s the craziest thing we’ve ever done?” Shizuo asked. “I mean, besides dating.”

 

“Having kids.” Izaya says hurriedly, leaning up for a kiss, but Shizuo turns away. He makes a sympathetic noise at Shizuo’s expression.

 

“Objectively, I mean – why are you asking this now?”

 

“I just want to know what you think.” And he makes such an innocent and puppy-eyed look that Izaya can’t resist him. He doesn’t even like puppies. He sighs, trying to calm himself down – he’s still very much hot and bothered but it seems like Shizuo was in a sentimental mood again.

 

“Well, we _were_ – or is it still are? The two most dangerous men in Ikebukuro. But obviously this had a great outcome that is about to lead to some very good, very steamy sex. Don’t be so down, you look just like Eeyore.”

 

“Who?” Shizuo felt a small spike of irrational jealousy that Izaya would know someone he didn’t – even if that was what he made a living off on.

 

“It’s a character. From a cartoon show, you know? Winnie the – never mind.” He leaned forward to kiss Shizuo’s exposed collar. “Why don’t we move this conversation to the bed? The table is too hard and my ass hurts.”

 

Shizuo’s dick twitches slightly at hearing the words ‘hard’ and ‘ass’ in the same sentence from Izaya’s mouth, and he carries him to the overly fluffy bed, returning the favour by planting a firm kiss on Izaya’s mouth as he clambers onto the bed, knees sinking into the covers, affecting his balance and causing him to waver slightly, it feels a bit like he’s drowning.

 

“I guess – I was thinking, about, how weird everything has turned out. In a good way, of course.” He murmurs against Izaya’s neck, kissing it hungrily again and pulling him closer.

 

“ _Mrm_ … _hhng_ ” Izaya made a sound from the back of his throat, eyes fluttering on occasion. “What about you? What do you think is the most insane thing we’ve ever done?”

 

“For me?” Shizuo tries to think, which is pretty difficult now, since his dick is straining against his pants and his mind is only really full of surreal thoughts of fucking Izaya on the balcony, with the city backdrop framing Izaya’s face as he begs for more.

 

He’s done a lot of crazy shit, most of them unintentional. “I guess it would be that time I bruised you so hard we had to get your arm in a cast. I was terrified, you know, _after_ you told me.”

 

“Ah! We were crazy, we were!”

 

“I was really terrified.”

 

“Yes! But I begged you to keep going, it was a weird turn-on.”

 

“Fuck,” Shizuo groaned, stripping his clothes off, then does the same with Izaya’s, more gently. “I don’t want to hurt you like that again. The kids were scared too, you know.”

 

“Sorry, sorry.” Izaya said, though he didn’t sound that apologetic. In fact, he was grinning impishly.

 

“You’re such an ass. Don’t you ever think of anyone other than yourself?” Shizuo bit down harshly on an exposed nipple, then rolls his tongue across it, dragging a high-pitched whimper from him. It makes Shizuo think of that time he tried spanking Izaya but got a knife in his chest back, despite having agreed. Izaya said that he had panicked. That was fifteen years ago, and Shizuo wonders if he should try asking Izaya again.

 

He continues licking and sucking on Izaya’s nipples, which are pink and swollen from his abuse. He gives them one final pinch before moving his hands down to wrap a hand around his pre-cum slicked cock, other hand teasing his hole gently.

 

“Nnggghhh…Ah! Shizu-chan, ahh!”

 

Izaya uses his foot to push against Shizuo’s dick, rubbing it up and down slowly, stroking it to full hardness.

 

“Put – put me on top of you and turn me around.”

 

Shizuo obliges immediately, groaning as they assume the position. He pinches Izaya’s light-toned cheeks apart, revealing his pink hole. He licks tentatively first, starting slow then delving his tongue in to taste him.

 

Izaya yelps with his mouth full, his tongue expertly swirling around Shizuo’s tip, his small mouth only halfway down as he uses his hands to wrap around the base. He proudly thinks of the time Izaya called his penis one of ‘the prettiest he’s ever seen’, praising its size and proportionality, and said that he was too spoiled by the miracle of Shizuo’s cock to be able to be satisfied by anyone else’s anymore. Which was, well, he was drunk.

 

As it was, they were a groaning, rutting mess. Shizuo stilled his ministrations to ask, “D – do you think they have any lube in here?”

 

“Just do _something, hurry.”_ Izaya urges, moans coming out in clipped bits while his hips undulated against the air.

 

Shizuo lowers Izaya again and moves him to his hands and knees. He lubes his fingers with some pre-cum and spit and starts pounding into Izaya with reckless abandon until they’re both senseless. He always fits in him like a glove.

 

Izaya buries his face into the pillows to muffle his voice when Shizuo slams in a particularly hard thrust, cumming inside him and filling his up with hot cum. Izaya tightens at that and shudders, spilling his load against the sheets.

 

 

“Wow.” Izaya breathes after everything, basking in the afterglow. He’s lying with his head in his arms, face half obscured by the cool, fluffy-beige comforters that’s been slightly soiled – must suck working for room service. Shizuo’s worked as a janitor one point in his life, and remembers how annoying it was to always clean up after other people’s messes. Well, there was a reason why it didn’t last long.

 

“You must have fucked me about three times just now, you truly have a monstrous refractory period. I hope it lasts well into – our older age.” Izaya said, looking briefly over his shoulder to check on whether there was any sound coming from the room over. “And it’s only been what? An hour? Oh – crap, what time do we have to wake up tomorrow.”

 

Izaya stretches up to check the alarm, and Shizuo follows the curve of his spine to his ass, which was still dripping with Shizuo’s cum. He feels his face getting warmer, he can never quite get over how embarrassing sex is when he’s out of the moment.

 

He knows he has been caught staring when Izaya wiggles it a bit before chuckling.

 

“Heh, like what you see? We may be forty but we can still fuck like we’re twenty, it seems.”

 

“I was just so happy.” Shizuo said, reaching out towards him to cuddle.

 

“You’re happy now, right?” Izaya asked, pulling away from his touch slightly.

 

“What – yeah – why do you keep thinking that I’m not?”

 

“I suppose I just.” Izaya touched Shizuo’s cheeks, looking away from him. He was still surprised to feel small bits of stubble poking his palms. Shizu-chan doesn’t quite suit a beard. “I feel like I blackmailed you into this or something.” He winced, pulling his hand back, though Shizuo stopped it from leaving. “I really didn’t want to get into this today – “

 

“What? You can’t just bring this up after having sex with me and pretend it’s nothing, Izaya. What do you mean?”

 

Shizuo lets Izaya release his hand from his grip, he dons Shizuo’s white t-shirt and turns around, facing his back towards him.

 

“Tomorrow, we can talk about it then.”

 

 _“Oi_. _Flea._ ”

 

But Izaya was already pretending to breathe deeply, and Shizuo very intentionally flops against the bed angrily, and curses when his head bumps against the headboard. Izaya twitches slightly when he hears it but doesn’t rise up to check and it only makes the pain worse.

 

…

 

“What?” Is what Izaya is greeted with the next morning, when Haru sulks and takes a seat at the bar area – which had been cleared of all traces of the alcohol. She’s sitting there with her early-morning expression of loathing. It reminds Izaya of Mairu’s facial expressions in the rare occasions they would meet from the ages of fourteen to seventeen, and he suddenly could see where Shizuo’s worries were stemming from.

 

Speaking of Shizuo, he was very obviously ignoring Izaya the next morning, he doubts he was even paying attention when he reminded him to clear up the mess, or charge his phone, or – anything, really. Izaya bets that if he told Shizuo that he was planning to elope to Europe he would barely register what he said.

 

He supposes it is warranted, after last night. Izaya rather thinks most of last night went rather well, that is, until he had done what he did best and ruin the mood by running his mouth. They slept facing away from each other, and a _very small_ part of Izaya felt pathetic. Though, if Shizuo was really adamant on keeping this cold shoulder game up – and he could be very stubborn – then Itsuki was likely to pick up on something soon, which would spread to the rest of his siblings just as quickly. And, the last thing he needed right now was more complications.

 

This attitude continued while they were driving, too. By then, everyone had caught on that something was up, but at least they had the tact to stay quiet. Or, perhaps too quiet. Their arrival at the closest restaurant had consisted of a full minute of awkward silence as they walked towards the place for an early lunch.

 

It was really making Izaya annoyed, and he hardly got riled up.

 

“Haru, Hana, Suki!” Izaya chirped. The sudden mood shift jostled all of them to attention.

 

“So, what would you all like to eat? Me, personally, I think I would have the ootoro. Isn’t it quite weird that they serve it here? Ah, well it’s probably not as good as the one back home but, oh well.” Izaya tapped the table as the kids and Shizuo said their orders to Izaya. _“Hmm, waiter-san! We’ll have these.”_

“Oi, flea, you forgot mine.” Shizuo said, trying to keep his voice level.

 

“Well of course I would when you didn’t speak up at all!”

 

The familiar round of bickering continued until the food arrived, to which Shizuo finally managed to place his order, (without Izaya’s help, mind you).

 

Haru ordered a BBQ Chicken, chicken was something she got whenever they went to weird places and didn’t know anything else. Hana had insisted on trying out some Fried Alligator Chunks, saying that Kanna had tried it before, and that it would be exotic and she wanted to try something new if she was in a foreign place, but after a few mouthfuls Shizuo could tell she was forcing it. Izaya eventually switched foods with her when he noticed her eyeing his ootoro longingly. He’d always order Fatty Tuna if it was available, and strangely enough this place had it. Shizuo thought of this country as a bit of a Fusion Confusion itself.

 

Izaya choked in a few bites before he ended up ordering another plate of ootoro. Izaya probably loved that goddamned food more than he loved Shizuo, which he got jealous about sometimes. Izaya likes to poke fun at him about it until Shizuo brings up milk.

 

“Sit with your legs closed.” Izaya scolds.

 

Haru sticks out her tongue and defiantly spreads her legs further apart.

 

After brunch, they head towards Millenia Plaza to do a bit of shopping. Itsuki all but hauls Izaya to the nearest Toy Zone. Well, that leaves Shizuo with the girls, who naturally gravitated to one of the clothing stores, but not before Shizuo stopped off at one of the bookstores, looking for some interesting detective covers for fun.

 

As he’s scanning through the aisles, his eyes land on a familiar cover.

 

A while ago, Shizuo caught Hana reading some book. Well, that was normal, he thought, and would have thought nothing more of it if that fleeting idea didn’t make him catch his breath.

 

_Normal._

 

 _‘A Tale For The Time Being’_ , was its name. And Shizuo resolved to pick it up sometime and read it, if only because he wanted to be closer to that inexplicable rush of feeling he felt that time. And here, he saw it again, in some dusty old bookstore in Orlando.

 

He bought it immediately.

 

Which was pretty stupid on his part. Firstly, since he already had a copy at home, and secondly, because his English was about as good as his French, which was to say, non-existent. But it just felt right for him to do so, as if a lonely voice was calling from the book itself to speak to him, screaming for his name.

 

As they’re heading towards one of those clothing stores, he opens his recently bought book but, expectedly, does not understand anything. Frustrated, he wanted to tear something apart but figured it would be counterproductive. He would just have to ask Izaya to read it to him later.

 

 

Hana gave Shizuo the same look he’d been getting ever since she turned eleven last year: half-lidded eyes that reminded him of how he used to look like. She was looking at him like he was tedious, with hints of new shyness, as if puberty had transformed Shizuo into an obstacle rather than a confidant. When she was the one who felt like a mystery, one of those confusing puzzle boxes Shizuo tried to solve but always ended up breaking. He’s talked about it to Izaya before, and he responded with the same look.

 

“Put those shorts back, you’re not getting them.” Shizuo was determined not to lose this one. What was with stores and selling these criminally short clothing anyway?!

 

“Why not, hah? S’not like I won’t get it in a few years anyway!” She sassed, crossing her arms across her chest. When she got upset her speech would change, shifting to one that was far too close to his own, in a way that seemed menacing instead of endearing. “And anyway, it’s not exactly difficult to sneak things past you.”

 

At this point, one of the store clerks had noticed the commotion and walked over. She said something in English that Shizuo vaguely made out as a sort of greeting until she realised that Shizuo didn’t speak the language. Hana scoffed something in response, and then looked sheepish, probably since she was acting out in front of someone else. She had no problem dolling it out to Shizuo on a one-on-one basis lately.

 

“Whatever. Fine. I don’t care.” She said brusquely, and forcefully shoved the offending garment to the shopkeeper, who looked thoroughly confused and concerned at Shizuo, or at least, he hoped.

 

“Sorry.” Shizuo nodded to the clerk and walked away, hiding his eyes behind his hair.

 

They left their shopping items in the car. Shizuo, feeling slightly guilty about earlier discreetly bought an orangish-pink cotton hoodie that he caught her staring at.

 

At noon, they bought their tickets and entered the theme park.

 

Itsuki bounded towards the rides, expertly swerving away from the oncoming sea of people and dodging random objects in his path before leaping towards the centre line. For someone who called the place ‘lame’ he certainly seemed to be the most excited about it. He kept bouncing up and down, urging the rest of them to hurry up. Izaya groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“Someone get him before he kills himself.”

 

The queue was long, lasting for at least thirty minutes. During that time, Hana was refusing to talk to him, Haru was caught up in her own things, and he still didn’t want to talk to Izaya. He noticed that Itsuki had taken out his phone and started playing one of those mobile games to pass the time. It appeared that there was some kind of…fish? Except it was wearing a crown and looking quite smug. Itsuki tapped the screen to get it to eat objects and avoid other creatures to get bigger. So that it can eat the bigger creatures.

 

Shizuo decided to try his hand at it.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Game.” He clipped.

 

“Yeah, I see that.” Shizuo responded tersely. He got fed up with his “screw-it-all” attitude sometimes, especially when it was directed at him. He tries godammit, why did he always have to be so apathetic to him?

 

“What’s it called?” He tried, again.

 

Itsuki taps out of the game and shows him. Shizuo has it downloaded into his own phone within the next two minutes. He keeps playing, just for the heck of it, but loses more often than not. Itsuki tiptoes up to see the screen until Shizuo carries him in his free arm, he giggles whenever Shizuo messes up.

 

“What are you doing?” Izaya asks, half-incredulous, half-exasperated.

 

“Game.” Shizuo and Itsuki say at the same time.

 

Izaya looks at Shizuo like he’s grown a second head.

 

“It’s called _‘Mola, Get Bigger’?_ I think.”

 

“No, no! You got it wrong it’s _‘Get Bigger! Mola’_ otouchan.” Itsuki corrects.

 

“Ah, you’re right! Well, it’s cute, isn’t it?” Shizuo says distractedly.

 

One of Izaya’s eyebrows move upwards. “Is this also a coping mechanism for your mid-life crisis?” He asks hesitantly.

 

Shizuo taps out of the screen then, annoyed, pressing the home button a bit too hard. It reverts back to his lacklustre home screen that now included a new, bright blue game icon. He hasn’t downloaded much else. He likes keeping his screen devoid of clutter so that he can see his wallpaper.

 

He was not in tune with technology since he never bothered when the internet started becoming an actual thing. So, when he found out that there could be different wallpapers for his home and lock screens, he’d immediately asked Izaya to help him set them.

 

His lock screen was his own family portrait, from a time before Shizuo had lifted the fridge that spiralled his life into a semi-horror. The image had a weird quality to it because Shizuo asked his mom to send him the picture, and if there was anyone worse than navigating technology than him it would be her. But she was such a determined sweetheart that she went out of her way to take a picture, of the picture, and he was too touched to change it. His home wallpaper was of a collage he made while experimenting a bit with some preinstalled default software. It contained a candid picture of Izaya flipping through some paperwork, pictures of Haru and Itsuki when they were babies, and one more of Hana when they first officially brought her out and she’d won a cat charm at a gacha store.

 

Izaya himself had those default ones, since it probably wouldn’t be wise to have potential blackmail on full display. He keeps all of his personal things on a separate device.

 

With nothing else to do – since he _really_ doesn’t want to talk to Izaya right now – Shizuo looks around. Itsuki’s still in his arms, head buried against the crook of his shoulder and neck.

 

The queue seems to stretch on forever, but at least the place they were in was interesting. He forgets what this cartoon show is called, but the walls are decorated with lots of honey, and a yellow bear with a red shirt, as well as his friends. It was a kid-friendly ride that Itsuki chose - which was rare of him to do so - so he was surprised that neither Haru nor Hana were complaining about it. Most of the people here were, expectedly, parents with young toddlers.

 

Haru seemed to be on some sort of chatroom. It looked like the same one Shizuo would see Izaya occasionally log onto. He had tried getting into it himself but he found not knowing the other person’s identity to be generally annoying and untrustworthy.

 

Haru is certainly the most self-reliant of his kids, Izaya says she probably was more so than Shizuo when he was her age, which Shizuo thinks is an unfair comparison. Comparing her to how he was is setting much too low a standard. It bothered Shizuo, however, how much she put on herself. Izaya thinks it’s a path to independence, that allowing her to make her own choices should be encouraged more, but Shizuo isn’t really sure.

 

With the advent of having two younger siblings, it made sense that she had grown up the fastest – something they can both relate to. It seemed like she floated by, but not aimlessly, though it felt like she was very much alone. Shizuo felt like Haru and Izaya spoke each other’s language, while he was kept at a distance, they were both a bit too mature too young, but still childish. In a lot of ways, Haru had become Izaya’s best friend, and sometimes he feared that Izaya was hers too. Shizuo somehow felt like it was his fault, maybe he was too carefree, and she saw that and wanted to be different.

 

Shizuo’s eyes light with recognition at one of the names in the chatroom.

 

“Oh, that’s your friend, Shiori right?”

 

“Mhm, apparently she’s in the states too.”

 

“Really? That’s cool.”

 

“Yeah, but she’s in a different part. California.”  
  
“Oh, that’s all the way on the other side, I think. America’s big, huh.”

 

“Yeah.” Haru says. She looks away from the neon screen and leans back against the railings. “You know, Shiori’s parents call her every night if she’s away from home.”

 

“Oh, really?” Shizuo vaguely remembers them as too kindly, if plain-looking individuals.

 

“Yeah, it seems nice. I guess I’m a bit jealous.” She said, and that broke Shizuo’s heart in a completely different way. She was getting good at doing that without meaning to, like Izaya.

 

“Oh, honey.” Shizuo started, then swallowed, he wasn’t sure of what to say.

 

“But it’s really annoying sometimes. They check up on her every hour when we hang out, or when she’s at school. it gets kind of grating. They’re always looking her shoulder, I don’t know how the poor girl lives.”

 

“Ah, yeah.” He didn’t really get what she was trying to tell him here.

 

“Do you, want us to check up on you, at school?”

 

“Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t.” She says simply.

 

“Well, then, when you do, we will.” And Shizuo wants to keep this promise.

 

They finally near the end of the line and the kids are visibly psyched by the whole thing, Izaya too, has a childish spring to his movements as he straps in. All in all it was pretty cute, the ride had full animatronics of the characters on the wall, which was charming.

 

Itsuki and Hana were too short to go on the scarier rides, so they’re usually sulking at the base or in one of those trinket shops while Izaya accompanies Haru on them. Shizuo decides that they really shouldn’t be too glum in a place that was supposed to incite joy and mysticism in children. So, to cheer them up, Shizuo resolves to be their own ride. He does something he hasn’t done in years and has them hang on from his arm as he swings them around, mildly, of course. And they’re chortling and screeching, the people around them, too, have noticed and are laughing, a few of them whisking out their phones likely to share it online. He does not even notice when Izaya and Haru are back, ready to move on. Izaya takes out his phone to subtly snap a picture of them like that, smiling softly to himself.

 

“Hey, I found something I think you’d like.”

 

They were at a World Showcase shop and Shizuo bumped one of the alpaca plushies against Itsuki’s cheeks.

 

“Wha – why that?!” He gasped, looking around to make sure no one had noticed.

 

“Cause, you like them, right?”

 

“That’s not even an alpaca, that’s a llama!” He pointed out, sounding very affronted. “And, no, it’s girly.” He spoke that last part in an undertone.

 

“Seriously?” Shizuo tried to scale back his shock, grinning. ”Sorry, but I know you like them. Alpacas. Remember Aiko?”

 

“God, that was so embarrassing. Why’d you guys let me do that?”

 

“You’d cry if it wasn’t with you, and it was sweet.” Shizuo realised he’d picked the wrong adjective when Itsuki grunted.

 

Izaya postulates that Aiko-the-unsuspecting-Alpaca is one of the factors that contributed to Itsuki’s extremely clingy nature. It was a well-treasured gift from Kasuka from when he was filming in Sweden and was given to them when they had Itsuki. He used to bring it with him everywhere, to school, out shopping, and even to the shower. Though that only happened one time when he realised wet alpacas took a while to dry. However, he stopped when he entered Elementary because he got teased for it and realised it was childish. He threw it into an empty drawer in a fit of rage one day, after which the drawer never quite closed as smoothly again, but Izaya notes that Aiko never stayed in the same position for long.

 

“Well, I’m not getting the thing.” He huffed, like someone had forced him too. He didn’t like it when someone did things that were ‘girly’, as if it would implicate him too. He liked seeing Shizuo lift heavy items and being stronger than most of his peers, and he lavished in the rare instances Izaya would talk about his experiences with that Yakuza and how people cowered in fear at his influence. He didn’t like it when they were openly affectionate with each other, even though he was a rather soft and cuddly boy himself.

 

Shizuo does keep trying to get him to buy some of the softer toys anyway, to which he finally relents and puts the new Aiko, who’s still a llama, on the cashier.

 

Izaya doesn’t really permit them to eat junk food often, so while he’s away lining up to buy their food at one of the less crowded food courts (of which there were very few) Shizuo has to adopt the role of ‘bad cop’. It appears that Hana has spotted an ice cream snack stand, and they were now unfairly attacking Shizuo from all sides.

 

“No, guys, Izaya said no. If you want some then go ask him to change his mind.” _Good luck with that._ He thought, Izaya could be as stubborn as he was smart.

 

Itsuki grumbled before an idea popped into his head. He exhaled and said loudly.

 

“You’re always doing what he says…It’s not like he’s the boss of you or anything.”

 

And, Shizuo had to admit, he himself was prone to many bouts of childishness. Izaya once jokingly described him as a child in a man’s body (when he was the one skipping around in public), being that he threw ‘tantrums’ and was generally _very_ moody when things didn’t go his way. But, well he was upset! He would show it if he wanted, hiding your emotions was cowardly. His taste in food too, would be considered childish by many, but he doesn’t care. Food was food, why the need to slap some stupid label on it and criticise people for their taste? Screw those assholes.

 

Another reason why Izaya was so ready to coin him as childish would probably also be because, well, he was.

 

“You know what? We’re on vacation right, so it should be okay to indulge a bit! Each of you can get one ice-cream, whatever flavour, but we need to hurry before Otousan gets back.”

 

And the three cheers of joy he got made him feel victorious.

 

“…”

 

“You _let_ them bait you?”

 

“It’s, c’mon let them have some fun.”

 

Izaya rolls his eyes and starts eating so he can ignore Shizuo. He very intensely turns away from Shizuo as he does, looking pointedly at those purple flowers he sees here often, which he asked about earlier. Izaya says they’re called columbines. Apparently, it means really different things depending on where you’re from. Celtics believed that the flowers were a portal to the world of dreams and visions – he’d have to ask Celty later. Some thought it referred to ‘the fool’, since it looked like the hat of a court jesters – he can kinda see it. And Austrians just thought it symbolised five doves in a circle. It’s funny what you can see in a flower.

 

As the rest of them are stuffed full and relaxing, Izaya clears up the empty wrappers and cups to the tray return areas.

 

“Hey, Otouchan, who ‘wears the pants’ in your relationship?”

 

Shizuo’s purple coloured drink sloshes in his hand as he starts. He whips around to face Itsuki. “What?”

 

Itsuki shrugs. “Some of the guys at school were talking about it. Um, you guys.”

 

“What did they say? What did you say?” He was probably coming on a bit too strong with this but it worried him that Itsuki was talking about these things at school. He was young, and so were his friends for that matter, Shizuo wasn’t in the vein of forcing other parents to explain sexuality to their kids.

 

“Don’t get mad at me?” He seemed hesitant as he asked, head down.

 

“Of course I won’t.” Shizuo said, incredulous.

 

“I, uh, well most people know about you guys in one way or another I guess. And I just let slip that I called you ‘Otouchan’ and I guess some people took that to mean you were the ‘girl’.” He sees Hana blush in the corner of his eye – clearly, she’s heard and has wisely decided to stay out of it.

 

“I don’t know what that means, I just got angry and, I – we got into a fight. I didn’t tell you guys at the time.” He finishes, wearing a hangdog look.

 

Oh.

 

“Oh.”

 

Shizuo didn’t know how to explain this – they haven’t even explained it to Haru yet, damn it. And while it was true that Shizuo topped, it was mostly because Izaya enjoyed bottoming too much. He didn’t have a problem with that though, he preferred topping, it was nice to be able to protect someone in that manner instead of breaking them. But to say that he metaphorically ‘wore the pants’ sounded a bit wrong.

 

“Um, we’ll talk about this later.”

 

Itsuki looked annoyed at the response, as though he had expected it but was still disappointed. “Whatever.” He said, instead. “Where’s Otousan, I’ll ask him instead.”

 

“Wait – what? Why?”

 

“Because,” He says, frustratingly running his empty hand through his hair. “at least he tells me things! You never say anything, it’s like, you’re just – argh!” He turns tail and runs towards Izaya.

 

Shizuo is left feeling forlorn, his only company being those lonely, purple columbines.

 

 

He complains about this to Izaya while they’re waiting for the kids to get back from one of the rides. The one with the teacups.

 

“Why is he always like this to me?”

 

“He’s just embarrassed.”

 

“Embarrassed? He seemed brazen to me, and remorseless.”

 

“He’s just putting up a front for you.”

 

“For me? I’m his fucking father!”

 

“ _Jar_. And, well, sons like to impress their fathers, right? He always tries to impress us, he just does it differently for each of us.”

 

“Yeah? Like how? Fuck, he doesn’t speak to you like that.”

 

 _“J –_ “

 

“I’ve sworn more times than this on this trip. And you actually brought that with you?”

 

“Well, it is an essential packing item, with you, it’s in the hotel. And anyway, now I’m asking you to compensate for it. You’re the one who was a debt collector here.”

 

Shizuo is so fed up at the events that transpired he chucks his whole wallet onto the table at Izaya before screaming out a stream of curses. People stare at his table weirdly while those walking by do so at a distance, knowing instinctively to not look at the blonde-haired foreigner the wrong way. Izaya may or may not be amused as he checks the contents of Shizuo’s wallet.

 

“You know he just wants to be, strong, in front of you.”

 

Shizuo clenches his fist and gets up. “I just, don’t get why. I’m gonna go take a piss, be back soon.”

 

He wasn’t serious about the piss at first, just wanting to get away from things. But now he actually needed to go, and it seems like the restroom was evading him. He spent another ten minutes wandering around, in search for the most elusive fucking restroom that has ever been built ever before he somehow found himself in Epcot. He was supposed to still be in the fucking Magic Kingdom.

 

He pulled out his phone until he remembered he had forgotten to charge it this morning in the midst of everything. Izaya had asked him about it too, and whether he wanted to take one of his extra phones though he said it was fine, too pissed off at the time to really think about the situation.

 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck,_ not again.” Shizuo paced around the same Disney princess themed store for a few moments, their sly and elegant smiles looking mocking and sinister. He could always try shouting out Izaya’s name – that had worked many times before. But that was too ridiculous, and he wasn’t sure that once he did he would be able to control himself any longer, and destroying a ride and endangering others would certainly get him arrested here.

 

This place was so big – it felt bigger than Ikebukuro. Which it wasn’t, but his family felt the farthest away from him than they’d ever been. And he’s mad, mad at Izaya yesterday for being cold, mad at this too-big place, mad at having no self-control to refuse buying ice-cream for his kids, mad at not being able to answer them, mad at himself. He’s so mad at himself, he’s such a – such a failure. He has the urge to rip out something – anything, tear down this place and destroy everything just so he can be reunited back with how family.

 

But he doesn’t.

 

After who knows how long of confusing and dizzying stumbling around, it feels as if the crowd around him disperses and he happens to catch a glimpse of a black, furry coat. On their owner’s finger, two bands of silver around their fingers.

 

“Where the hell were you and what were you doing? Seriously you couldn’t even follow basic directions – ugh, I knew you should have taken one of my extra – “ He stopped talking when Shizuo collapsed into him hard, overwhelmed with disproportionate relief, like he had been lost for days instead of minutes. He reached around to pull Haru, Hana and Itsuki into the hug, too.

 

Izaya coughs, cheeks tinted red at the attention they’re getting.

 

“We, we should get back soon. It’s already five, anyway, and otouchan seems a bit dizzy.”

 

They’re a bit crestfallen that they don’t get to see the night shows, but they’re all more worried about Shizuo, who looks on the verge of tears as he latches onto Izaya all the way to the car and doesn’t let go until they are safe behind the confines of a closed door.

 

 

“Is this yours?” Izaya asks when they’re back at the hotel. He asked Haru to watch over Hana and Itsuki while they’re at the pool while he’s sorting through their haul of items they bought, which included a fair amount of clothes, some toys, and few Disney themed collectibles and bottles. He’s holding a colourful book in his hands, the cover a lovely mix of yellows, blues and reds.

 

“Ah, yeah. I wanted to ask you to read it to me.”

 

Izaya flips to the end of the book.

 

“Woah, wait stop!”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Oi, you shouldn’t treat books like that.”

 

He raised his eyebrow dubiously. “I didn’t peg you for a bookworm, Shizu-chan.”

 

“M’not, just, you should read how the author intended you know?”

 

Izaya considers him for a moment, then shuts the book and gets up, stretching a bit before walking over.

 

“Ok. We have time.”

 

He leans his head on Shizuo’s bicep with the book over their heads. Shizuo is surprised that there are the bits of kanji at the footnotes of the pages. After half an hour, they’ve already gone through more than a hundred pages, Izaya making sure that the translations are clear for Shizuo, even phrasing some of the slang to fit the tone.

 

_“’If you ask me, Japan is not so peaceful, and most people don’t really like peace anyway. I believe that in the deepest places in their hearts, people are violent and take pleasure in hurting each other.’”_

 

Hearing Izaya speak these lines in place of Nao was weirdly appropriate, like two people in tune with each other, yet separated by ruthless time.

 

“She sounds like you.” He says, midway through his reading. This gets him to stop. “The way she talks. Nao, that is.”

 

“Really? Well, she is unique. Usually young girls who want to commit suicide like to whine and moan, she seems more resigned.”

 

“Don’t – she’s not actually going to though, right?”

 

“It sounds like she is. Or maybe she never really existed, Ruth seems to have a hard time finding anything.”

 

“But she found that blog by her father though.”

 

“If the man can make up a world where he’s working for a successful start-up, he can make up a world with a fake daughter too. Besides, I don’t mean ‘existed’ in the traditional sense, I mean in the more modern sense. She’s so lonely, and oh, her classmates are so cruel. Without connection with others, she may as well have never lived, I think Nao would agree.”

 

Shizuo feels offended on Nao’s behalf, he feels protective of her, and feels like arguing more, but Izaya’s already sitting up, twisting around to look down at Shizuo, a spark in his eyes.

 

“The funeral was beyond cruel, though I have to say it’s unique – I doubt even I could pull off something that harsh. Do you think anyone in Raijin would have gone through the trouble of doing all that?”

 

Shizuo tries to think of anyone besides Izaya who would go that far. Maybe Shinra. This makes him think about the Raijin in general, and finds the only other person he can remember being Kadota. He can’t recall any meaningful faces.

 

“No. Actually, I can’t think of anyone besides you, Shinra and Kadota, and – holy shit, I spent every day in high school chasing you, didn’t I?” He says with a sudden realisation.

 

“You did! You did! It was so easy to rile you up back then, but can you really not recall anyone else? Sato, Kumiko, Hiroshi – oi, oi, they were in _your_ class, you know?”

 

“Yeah, but I mean you’re the only thing I can really remember from high school and beyond that. And, I kind of like that?”

 

“Shizu-chan! Stop trying to seduce me, it’s not your forte,” He says, but he’s looking away and the tips of his ears are red. He’s so weirdly embarrassed when Shizuo says things like these. “No matter what you say we can’t exactly have the same kind of sex we did when we consummated our marriage.”

 

“I’m not trying to – relive it.”

 

“I never said you were.” The mood had been ruined and Izaya rolled away, reaching for something on the desk. “We can continue this another time, be a dear and get me the items on the list, will you? We need to bring some souvenirs home, you can get them all at the lobby area.”

 

Shizuo grunted, his half-hard boner deflating, and snatched away the paper, crushing it between the weight of his palms.

 

As he is checking out the items, he just wants to yell at the droopy-eyed guy across the counter that no, he was not having a mid-life crisis. Fuck Izaya. And that he should stop looking so goddamn terrified before Shizuo broke his nose in and gave him something real to be scared of. The guy rang the cashier and nervously handed him his change, rushing to pack the items.

 

What was so difficult to fucking believe that Shizuo was just annoyed at the moment, he wasn’t having some shitty identity issues or anything.

 

As he jammed the button waiting for the lift to arrive, he just felt old and weary, reaching into his pocket for cigarettes as he often did at times like these, but of course came up empty-handed. He noticed the foreign men in the lobby area, who were conversing with their own cigarette nubs between their lips acting like they owned the place and Shizuo suddenly felt like punching them for annoying him, feeling a sense of déjà vu. But not before he explained for the last time that he was _not_ going through anything.

 

 _“This place isn’t quite as lovely as Four Seasons though. Maril is there right now, pity I can’t accompany her.”_ One of the guys in a white polo t-shirt and khakis said to his friend, he had more hair, though they were greyer, and the way he carried himself more sophisticated. His buddy clapped a hand on his shoulder.

 

_“Ah yeah speaking of which how’s little Jacob doing? I heard you got him a new console? What a spoilt little brat!”_

 

_“Oh, he’s at the pool now. Boy’s in the swim team, fast as a shark, his coach once said. I knew then that I had to get him a private trainer, my boy has god given skill!”_

 

Something about their tone was deeply annoying, and felt directed at Shizuo for some reason, even though he couldn’t really catch what they were saying. It was like they wanted the scary Japanese guy standing alone to know he was rich enough to afford his family’s luxury.

 

Shizuo was relieved when the doors finally opened and he stepped into the six-by-six elevator, feeling tired, it felt it took twice as long to travel every time he ascended a level. That was how Shizuo felt this whole trip. The intervals seeming to span different times, and he was stuck between dreams, trying to wake up but falling deeper asleep. As he thought that, he can’t help but think it sounds like one of those annoying Japanese proverbs that he always felt meant absolutely nothing.

 

 

“It’s the foreign tongue, I think it makes her feel exotic and charmed.”

 

They left their items in the room to collect the kids. Shizuo felt like an old creep being near the section with all the younger people. There, they saw Hana chatting with an enthusiastic young boy, who stood too close for Shizuo’s liking.

 

“God, don’t say that about her. And she’s too young to have a boyfriend!”

 

“…Hm, you know I think Freud had a point.”

 

“What the hell does that mean?”

 

“…Well, I mean the little American is blond isn’t he, and he’s a bit reminiscent of you – “

 

“ _Stop.”_

 

Izaya beckoned to Hana then, urging her to finish her conversation. Since it was Izaya, he also had to add to her embarrassment by making overly pronounced and goofy hearts with his hands, causing them both to blush.

 

Shizuo exited the scene to get Haru and Itsuki, who were fooling around with some of the water guns. Itsuki wanted to go upstairs, having gotten bored, but Haru wanted to stay longer, so he accompanied him up before heading back down to the lobby to look for Izaya, Haru and Hana. While doing so, he heard a familiar, grating voice. He grew even more annoyed when he saw why he was here.

 

 _“See, Dad told you that this place is quite big right?_ _Though, not as big as one of the lodges we have in - where was it, Canada?”_ The fucking dick said to his kid. Loudly. _“Is it bigger? I mean, even so we still got the nicer view, I think.”_

 

“What the fuck is that fucking fucker’s problem?” Shizuo asked, sending the guy a dirty look. He either didn’t notice or was too much of a chickenshit to send one back.

 

“What - who?” Izaya asked. “Don’t cause a scene, there are children around. Or do, actually.”

 

“I’m talking about the kid’s father. You know, the little boy who likes Hana.”

 

“Huh? Jacob?” How the fuck was Izaya already on a first name basis with the kid? “You mean the man who looks like the most exercise he does is a round of golf? What did he do?”

 

“Nothing - I mean, not directly. He’s just a douchebag who has nothing better to do than brag about his stuff like - who is he trying to impress? The kid? Pisses me off.”

 

The guy looked in Shizuo’s direction, and Shizuo gave him an unflinching stare, to which he smiled nervously at.

 

“Shizu-chan!” Izaya whispered, though he was grinning. "What – are you trying to pick a fight in the lobby? Next to Mickey?”

 

"Maybe," Shizuo said, turning his dangerous look on Izaya. He smirked when Izaya’s eyes widened. "I just hate guys like that, like he’s tryna’ make me feel ashamed just because I don’t own two houses or something.“ He said. "You know – you know how I am."

 

“Shizu-chan,” he said suddenly very serious. “You could have definitely sent him flying back to his lodge. And you do own two houses, technically.”

 

“I know.” Shizuo said. “And those houses were yours before they were ours, so they don’t count. Also, I don’t think it would be nice to punch a kid’s dad in front of him.”

 

He saw the man making his way over. Shizuo felt himself instinctively moving between Izaya and the girls.

 

“So, um, nice to meet you, Mr…?” He reached out a hand, surprising Shizuo by speaking in slightly broken Japanese.

 

“Heiwajima.” Shizuo did not take it.

 

“Ah, yes. Oh, is that your husband over there?”

 

He was taken aback for a bit. Shizuo expected a man of his calibre to be snobby and disapproving, but this man didn’t even sound shocked at all.

 

“Ah, yeah.”

 

“You’ve got a lovely family,” He smiled, and it didn’t seem as to be that fake-sweetness that he sometimes got, either. “I think Jacob has a bit of a crush on your daughter, ey?” He nudges, chuckling slightly.

 

 _“Dad!”_ His kid shouted.

 

“Still feel like punching him?” Izaya muttered against his ear after they’ve talked for a bit. Shizuo rolled his eyes. Fine, maybe, he was a bit quick to judge others.

 

“No.” He admitted apologetically. “By the way, I’m heading up, can we order room service again tonight? I don’t really feel like eating out.”

 

“Sure, sure.” Izaya said then shooed him away, going back to chatting up Jacob’s dad.

 

 

When he was back in the room, he was greeted with his second shock of the day, as he saw Itsuki pulling the edges of their bedsheets so that they would look crisp and clean. As soon as he heard the door open, he jumped away from the bed, like he’d been caught red-handed doing something terrible.

 

“Otouchan! You should knock!” He shrieked.

 

“Where’s Otousan? I thought you guys were downstairs…Stop looking like that!” His face was so red. Shizuo hadn’t even realised he had a dopey grin across his face and wiped it off quickly so that Itsuki wouldn’t feel embarrassed and run away.

 

“He’s still downstairs trying to get your sisters away from the pool.” Shizuo said, tilting his head towards the balcony. “So I came back to accompany you. Did Izaya tell you to do this?”

 

“No.” Itsuki said, looking fixedly at the sliding doors.

 

“Has it been you this whole time?” Shizuo recalls the sheets at the beach house being arranged neatly, but didn’t think too much of it at the time. He shifted his gaze to meet Shizuo’s.

 

“Me – what? Tidying?”

 

“Yeah.” He finger-gunned the hotel bed, which looked a bit sloppy with untidied wrinkles and folds, but lovingly arranged with three pillows at the head instead of two.

 

Itsuki shrugged, which meant yes, and Shizuo slid his arm around Itsuki’s shoulders as he sat down comfortably next to him. He didn’t shrug Shizuo off, maybe just because he didn’t want Shizuo to feel as sad as he had when they were at Disney.

 

“Well, thanks,” Shizuo said. “I didn’t know. I thought maybe it was just, um, room service.” Shizuo is glad he had the foresight to dump their soiled sheets in the bathroom, at least.

 

“I just don’t like messes.”

 

“Yeah?” Shizuo said, voice wobbling with happiness.

 

“ _Arrggh_ – This is why I didn’t want you to know,” Itsuki said, mumbling.

 

“How come?”

 

“Because then you’d make it into a big deal.” He buried his eyes in his palms, voice muffled with self-conscious embarrassment, ears flaming red. Shizuo appreciated this change of pace though – there was always a certain air of smugness and indifference around him. A family trait, Shizuo decided.

 

“It’s fine if you think it’s bad room service or whatever, I make my bed at home and then I do Ha-ni’s. It’s not a big deal.”

 

Shizuo nodded, still grinning. He could remember that feeling, when his parents thinking something was significant or worthy of discussion was a sign that it should be minimized and avoided as much as possible. Similar to how Izaya always wanted even the nice things about himself to fly under the radar and avoid too much attention. So he didn’t fall all over Itsuki with weepy gratitude for making their beds and doing something kind and responsible without being asked to, though he really did want to.

 

Itsuki was fiddling with his thumbs while he tried to keep his expression hard, but he was still red-faced. He didn’t really seem angry, not yet. He just seemed like he was trying to be grown-up, which meant he had to keep pace ahead of whatever he was actually feeling, something Shizuo never managed to quite do. Shizuo thinks Itsuki would keep trying to be grown-up until suddenly, he was.

 

For now, though, Shizuo was happy that he could be embarrassed and sheepish like a child.

 

 

They were a bit extra with the room service for dinner, the food was lavish but their seating wasn’t. They were on the floor, reminding Shizuo of the day before their departure, luggage strewn around them. Back then, Izaya was urgent, now he seemed more carefree. And he could appreciate the rowdiness of a family dinner, loud and everyone talking at the same time. At one point, Haru and Itsuki were relentlessly teasing Hana about Jacob until she was shockingly red and Shizuo told them to stop.

 

“I’m thinking of inviting Mairu and Kururi for Haru’s birthday.” Izaya brings up casually when the kids are crowding outside on the balcony, trying to catch a glimpse of the distant fireworks from the Night Shows in Disneyland. The ones right now were purple and flower shaped.

 

“Oh. I mean, that’s great! Why now though?”

 

“I think she misses them.”

 

“Ah.” Shizuo stares at him longer.

 

“I sent them a picture earlier.”

 

“Of what?”

 

Izaya smirked knowingly. “Secret.”

 

Shizuo sighs, irked. He takes another bite of his expensive beef burger, which Izaya says should be eaten properly with a fork and knife, so of course Shizuo would eat it with his hands. “Why didn’t you tell them that time anyway?”

 

Izaya shrugs. “It just seemed like they were asking a lot at the time. I just didn’t know how to deliver, so I didn’t.”

 

“For two years?”

 

“Why are we talking about this now?”

 

“Because, it’s good. And you brought it up.”

 

“Whatever,” Izaya dismissed. “Our lovely children are right out there, having adorable discussions about flowers and fireworks!” And Shizuo was touched.

 

 

Later that night, Izaya is doing another round of check through of their luggages. Shizuo is lying on his side on the edge of the bed, not yet wanting to ruin Itsuki’s hard work. His attention is drawn to Izaya’s hands, that are fiddling with the locks on the luggages. The exposed nape of his neck is facing towards him, Shizuo gets bold and brushes his lips against it, causing Izaya to shiver.

 

“I don’t know if I told you this before but your hands are amazing.”

 

“My hands?” Izaya gasps when Shizuo licks up his neck. Shizuo reaches around and grabs them both in his hands.

 

“Yeah, maybe I didn’t notice before cause - yeah. But they’re soft and thin, but they’ve got a bit of strain in them. Feels good. Have I not told you this before?”

 

“Shizu-chan, I think it’s a bit late to be revealing your hand fetish to me now. You should have done that in your prime.”

 

“Why do you keep bringing this up?” Shizuo grips Izaya’s hands tighter, biting his ear. “You said you’d talk about this today, so talk.”

 

“It’s – nothing really.”

 

“That has to be the _worst_ lie you’ve ever told.”

 

Izaya snaps finally. “You, all throughout everything made it seem like I forced you into going on this or something! You look so – dejected, sometimes. And I don’t know what you want. It’s like you’re unhappy with this, with me – “

 

Shizuo wraps his hands around Izaya and turns him around so that they’re facing each other. “Izaya, do I look unhappy now?”

 

Izaya surges upward, pushing Shizuo back against the bed eagerly. _Sorry, Suki_. Was what Shizuo thought before he flipped their positions around, tongues battling for dominance.

 

“I’m truly am glad you’re able to enjoy yourself in the midst of your mid-life crisis.” Izaya says amidst kisses. His face has started to gain colour now.

 

“It’s not a goddamned mid-life crisis.” Shizuo said. “Everything’s just - changing.”

 

“‘Change is the only constant’, and praise Heraclitus for that one, otherwise I don’t know how else you could be with me.”

 

“Nah,” Shizuo pressed his face into Izaya’s neck. “You’ve been the only thing that has stayed the same throughout my life, for better for worse – “

 

“For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part?” Izaya glows. “’For better, for worse’, what an odd saying to include in one’s marriage vows. As if the notion that the two of them together would incite terror, though perhaps it’s realistic? Ah, but despite all, so many people fail to make good on that promise, don’t they?”

 

Izaya drags Shizuo down then, whispering sinisterly in his ear. “You know, if you ever did leave me, I’d have you killed. I don’t care if it’s our daughter’s birthday, I have connections. I can get the job done quickly.”

 

“Kill me yourself, coward.”

 

“Oh! That’s right, how could I forget? I’ll make sure they only knock you out then.” He giggled.  

 

Shizuo’s nose wrinkles, phlegmatic. “Shut up, or I’ll crush your neck.”

 

“Oh come on, you can do better than that.”

 

“Look, I don’t spend every waking minute of my life thinking of gruesome ways to murder you anymore. Isn’t that _good_? Tch, fucked up flea.”

 

“Yes, yes, but the way you put it – it’s so boring.” He whined. “You’ve always been a bit lacking in creativity. It’s not romantic at all.”

 

And _Izaya’s_ fantasies were supposed to be?

 

“Fine _._ ”

 

Shizuo sees Izaya’s eyes widen in shock and anticipation before he finds himself pinned on his stomach, hands held in a tight-fisted grip behind his back, his ass up high. Shizuo grinded his hips down to nestle his cock between Izaya’s bottom, his breath coming down hot and hard.

_“Is this better?”_

 

And oh god, his voice was so warm and husky right next to Izaya’s ear. He never thought he would wish for humanity to forego clothing and live out like cavemen, for right now they were a bother.

 

Izaya pushed his hips back for more friction.

 

“You want me to fuck you so hard, you’re be a whining, moaning mess afterwards, don’t you? Pound you into a bloodied flea paste. You’re such a slut for me, always taking me in so well, you’ll even beg for it.” Izaya likes dirty talk and taking it rough, Shizuo’s gotten better at both of them over the years, and appreciates a bit of it sometimes, but only if Izaya allows him to shower him with kisses and care afterwards.

 

Shizuo tightened his hold on Izaya’s arms, sure to leave a bruise later, he winced slightly at that thought. Nevertheless, he used his other arm to roll Izaya over. Izaya slammed into the pillows with a wheeze, struggling half-heartedly as Shizuo settled atop him, keeping a restrain on Izaya’s hands which he placed over his head.

 

“Well, maybe I _will_.”

 

“Ahn, _Shi – Shizu-chan_!” Izaya gasped when Shizuo pushed one knee in between his legs to rub against his straining erection. “See? You just need a little push. That’s much better.”

 

“I always give my one hundred percent with you. And you, for me, right?” Shizuo groaned, he keeps thinking about ripping off Izaya’s pants right then and there, but considers the trouble they would have to go to buy a new one and decides against it. Shizuo curses Izaya’s expensive clothing and spending habits but loves it all the same.

 

Izaya gives him his very kindest smile.

 

“Only the best for you, Shizu-chan.”

 

And that line makes everything worth it.

 

…

 

At some point during the elevator ride down the next morning, Hana and Itsuki have wound themselves around each of Izaya’s legs. Besides the fact that it was still early and he was tired, his agility and balance were not quite as sharp as they once had been, leading him to stumble slightly while he tries to navigate himself to the breakfast buffet. Izaya feels weirdly comforted with the warmth there, the familiar feeling of two small, warm bodies hanging onto him that he had forgotten for far too long. And when Shizuo comes down minutes later with a stumbling Haru in tow to greet him with a drowsy peck on the cheek, he finds himself not caring about the dozens of people staring – in disbelief, in contempt, in whatever he could imagine – he’d always liked guessing. Now, however, it wasn’t about that. It was about something so much smaller, but much more fulfilling than he ever thought it could be. That this small idea he humoured once only to be quashed relentlessly to the back of his mind years ago could arise again despite all.

 

On the plane ride home, Itsuki hijacks the window seat again, and pulls Shizuo along to sit next to him. Haru looks over Hana’s phone and tells Izaya about how she’s texting Jacob, and Shizuo feels slightly bad for leaving her defenceless with those two.

 

It wasn’t perfect but perfect was never what he wanted.

 

Maybe that old friend was long gone, and that sentimental feeling of regret mixed with nostalgia would always linger, but there was always going to be new feelings and faces he would meet to make that gap grow smaller, the bigger things in his life making it less significant by the day. Big enough so that he could appreciate the void being there, but small enough so that it would not consume him. Looking at the life he’s built, something that seemed so distant and foreign to him years ago, Shizuo feels like his search for lost time was actually found years ago. It was present in the way Haru would clamber to him for a hug, in the strong way in which Hana held herself, in the way Itsuki would curl up against him for protection, in Izaya’s unexpectedly delicate hands that always fit right against him and, most importantly, in his place in all of that. He thinks, if he could meet Nao, he would tell her all about his raison d’être.

 

He looked to his right, where he saw Izaya smiling gently at his screen.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“Hm?” Izaya looked oddly dreamy. “Here, read it. You’ll love it.”

 

And he does.

 

 

 _Ahhh lucky! ~ Shizu-nii looks so kira kira kakkoii with them around his arms like that! Ahhhhh!! We’re sososososo jealous! We’ve always wanted to go visit America, especially after Kasuka’s filming of ‘Angel, fall in love! Love! Love!’ You really don’t deserve it for being such a horrible big brother, but we’ll be sure to scold you terribly when we come visit!!!_ ٩(╬ఠ༬ఠ)و _You better watch your back – Mairu can still kick, you know._

_And you better tell us everything this time!_

_P.S. She has a girlfriend now. We didn’t tell you, but we’ll take that as revenge for last time. Ah, but it’s not like you didn’t already know, isn’t that right dear brother?_

_See you soon,_

_Your loving family_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That stupid movie btw, it's an actual thing. It's called Mom & Dad and the star actor is...Nicholas Cage! Now you know it should be taken seriously.
> 
> And the book mentioned, A Tale For The Time Being, it's a lovely and bittersweet read, and if you can pick it up please do. Probably one of my favourite books of all time and influenced the style and themes of this story.
> 
> Get Bigger! Mola - A very cute, very stupid mobile game that I spent too much of my time on.
> 
> Thank you for all of you who have followed this story! It was my first attempt at a multi-chaptered story and boy did it take long. However, this is just a preview, and it was always intended to be a preview (a very long one, mind you), to something bigger that I’m planning on, of which there is a very, very, veery tiny hint - pretty much non-existent, blink-and-you-miss-it kinda thing, so I hope you look forward to more of this in the future! I have big plans for it.


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